Unbalanced Pendulum
by Fuzzy Eared
Summary: A dark romance tale of seduction and suffering. When Kurama finds himself forcefully bound to Hiei's side what measures will the desperate fox take to regain his freedom? The story takes place before the series AU. Yaoi HxK
1. Release the Ball

**Unbalanced Pendulum**

**Chapter 1: Release the Ball**

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A perfect pendulum sweeps from side to side in perpetual motion. It is so reliable and so powerful as to control our minds and breathe life into our technology. We can grasp how one action flows smoothly into another: action and reaction, cause and effect. Flawless is its awe-inspiring beauty. But an unbalanced pendulum is erratic and controllable by no one. Once released, the world can only watch as the events tumble forth in patterns too complex to predict. It is imperfect, but terrifyingly beautiful in a way that perfection can barely dream of and never understand. Such is human rapture with that which we cannot contain.

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I had been hired. The request was no different from any other before it. My clients never said why, and I never asked. They would hear of me by rumour, find me through trails of blood and money. And my assignment would be given. The payment would be decided - with loopholes of my design. The employers varied, but the mission was always the same. Someone, or something, was desired. I preferred to kill my prey, but sometimes my client's need was otherwise. I never questioned. I simply did…as long as the pay was good. Richer clientele didn't want their hands soiled or their lives unnecessarily endangered. There were those that I could intimidate, send them trembling into dark corners and even darker nightmares. Those kinds always paid well.

When in my profession, it is always important to remember one fact about those who hire my services: they cannot get the job done on their own. They are always either too weak and cowardly to kill, too lazy to try, or too stupid to find their target themselves. And so they come to me. They have no responsibility except to pay me the bounty upon my return. Or their life is forfeit. I make sure that there is no doubt in their heads, whether they have one or seven, of this fact.

I was the best. No one was as reliable as me. One mission might take three years of hard toil, but it would be completed.

Forty-five years, eight months, and twelve days ago, I was contacted by what is commonly called an oreste – a word derived from Greek mythology as I later discovered. Some over-educated bastard probably found the similarities between Agamemnon's son and the demon clan's tradition of maturity amusing. Each year the 30 year-old male oreste "children" travel to the highest mountain peak in their territory (the unnamed giant) with their mothers and the clan's chief. The chief chooses the sickliest boy and the strongest boy present. These two then push their mothers off the edge of the mountain, successfully killing them. It prevents competition between powerful siblings, as a female oreste can only give birth once every thirty years, and the birth of lame children. Both mothers are honored with huge feasts upon the two designated tables of death. The mother of the strong boy is represented by a table of red stone, the other by a table of a pale wood.

This purple mountain mole looked neither impressively fierce nor terribly weak. His chest was broad as is normal, but his eyes were thin and yellow, a sign of living too far away from the high altitudes of the mountains. He tapped timidly upon my shoulder with one of his clawed hands. I recognized the posture of subservience in his hunched back, a lackey.

"Sir Hiei, my master wishes a word." His voice hissed and cracked. He flicked his eyes to the back rooms, followed by a twitching of his head in the same direction. His attempt at stealth was amusing, and I raised an eyebrow to express what I thought.

The bar was a typical Maikai slum. Everything dirty, dark, and illicit could be found to transpire here on any given day. The wooden floors were gritty with use and most of the furniture, if it could be considered such, was filled with notch marks from edged weapons that likely missed their mark. One section of wall was stained red from a massive spill of blood that had seeped into the grain years ago. The back rooms that the lackey was indicating towards were used for any manner of business transactions: torture, prostitution, trading, hiring, interrogation, and so forth. No one would look twice at a couple of people heading into the back rooms, not unless they were specifically watching those people in question that is. None of this mattered, however, as I followed the mole demon to my newest client.

My boots squelched outside the room indicated by the lackey, sticking to the freshly spilt blood. Still liquid I noticed. This might just prove to be interesting. The flimsy door opened with a shudder and a creak. When I stepped into the room I was greeted with a grisly sight. Apparently this client likes his food exotic and very raw. One of the more attractive dancing girls that this bar offered lay gutted on the bed. Her bright plumage had fallen out in death and her intestine (something I would never touch) acted as a bloody line connecting her to my possible employer's mouth. He had his fingers buried deep within the gore, fishing around for a particular item. The search ended as he ripped out one of her kidneys, the next item on the menu. This he plopped down on the standing cart beside the bed where he sat. The mole immediately walked over and began slicing the organ into bite size pieces. The girl's face was pale and yet serene, completely devoid of all blood spatters, so white that it must have been cleansed after the murder. To everyone their own, I was not exactly foreign to the strange fetishes possessed of those who inhabit the three worlds – even the sacred and _precious_ Reikai.

When he completed his slurping of the intestine, he turned his bloody mouth upon me. "You are the infamous Hiei I presume." I nodded. His voice reminded me of silk over velvet, smooth in each syllable and not too deep in sound. I could not help but notice that, under all of his meal's grime, he was an attractive man. "Good. I have a request to ask of you, a delicate assignment that really requires the utmost skill to complete." He paused to pop a bite of kidney into his mouth. "Money is not an issue and I assure you that you will be well accommodated for your efforts," another piece of kidney. "I believe you like insurance, do you not?" I nodded again. "Five-hundred in gold. Is that enough to start?" The price, though high, was not at all unusual…and I have been offered much higher.

"Tell me who you are and what I will be doing first."

"Of course, of course, how rude of me. They call me Karasu and what do _I _want. I burn for Youko Kurama. You will deliver the legend to me, alive and unarguably perfect in body and mind."

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	2. An Evil of a Thousand Graces

Thanks to all of my reviewers!

WARNING! This chapter contains lemon/lemon-lime (pairing Karasu x Hiei). Read at your own risk. readers can follow this link for the whole chapter:

http/members. Pendulum

**Chapter 2: An Evil of a Thousand Graces **

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"Of course, of course, how rude of me. They call me Karasu and what do _I _want. I _burn_ for Youko Kurama. You will deliver the legend to me, alive and unarguably perfect in body and mind."

My face remained impassive. I was no stranger to the fox spirit's reputation - it is hard to believe that anyone _could be _so far removed as to be ignorant of the legend. Stories of the notorious fox were told to little children to keep them from wandering away. They said he was fear and desire incarnate, that a mere gaze from his eyes could hypnotize you, that no creature was safe from the rocking of his hips, that no person was immune to his charm, that no barrier was impossible for him to overcome, that no coin was immune to his avarice, that no creature could withstand his summoned wrath, that the very earth trembled before his grace.

Through these dark tales was the kitsune known to the world.

He never bothered to hide his presence. They said that he strutted in full view of his enemies and laughed with his back towards them. He was a pure white beauty in diaphanous robes that shone of the moon with a cold heart to match the lonely glow. His locks were of strong silver chord that he used to slit the throats of men, women, and children alike. And his pale skin never broke beneath an opponent's weapon.

Some worshipped him as a god, while others revered him as the devil. His cults of horribly misshapen chimeras from the darkest of a madman's ravings would search out little children and attractive demons to feed and please their master. They would capture humans if they were able, their blood is bitter, but their organs much more tender.

He would leave a flower behind him in a fragrant trail of death, despair, and betrayal. Be it in a lover's bed, an emptied vault, or on a dead man's open wound, the plucked blossom would be there if Kurama considered the recipient worthy of the honor.

Fanatics followed the fox's colorful trail like scent hounds, but they could never catch him.

Rumour spread among them that the great spirit watched over them and would often choose his next lover from their flock. Many demons, seduced by the danger and forbidden paths that he personified, joined the chase in the hopes that he would choose them. Often the most persistent of the members would disappear only to be found in a state of dead delirium. These fatalities discouraged no one.

The kitsune seemed to dare anyone to catch him, to tame him, to bend him to his or her will.

They said that his glowing, golden eyes could be distinguished by their laughing scorn. He knows he is dominant over all life, a legend among legends.

And I am now asked to strip him of all glory, to distinguish those gorgeous eyes, to silence his mocking lips, to kill his beloved ardor. I am to kill a god.

"I have hired others, I don't think I need to tell you that they failed. Why else would I be here? If you are as good as word says you to be, this should be no more than a challenge to be overcome." Karasu was testing me with his words. I knew this game and I played it very well.

"Five-hundred is not enough." He looked curiously at me. The last slice of kidney was between his fingers.

"What do you want then?"

"One thousand, five-hundred." His startling violet eyes narrowed. Rivulets of blood dribbled down his fingers, his wrist. They coalesced into a single red stream flowing down to gather at his elbow.

"That is a ridiculous insurance price. I will offer not a penny more than seven-hundred." The insurance price is always one-fourth of the overall payment. The rest is given when the mission is complete – a trade.

A single drop of blood fell from the small pool at his elbow and was lost in the black fabric of his suit.

I turned to leave. "One thousand." The words were dredged up from the pits of his angry desire. I was no fool. If he were mad enough to sponsor this mission, he would be willing to pay any price for hope of victory.

"One thousand, two-hundred or I walk."

"Fine," his voice dropped to a huskier tone, "but a pretty thing like you owes me a little favor for that much money." I noticed the mole retrieve the meal cart and exit the room, shutting the door behind him.

Karasu pushed the bloody carcass off of the ratty bed he was sitting on, never taking his eyes off my body. His actions annoyed me, but money is money, and sex often only a tool in the simplistic politics of the Maikai. This wasn't exactly my first client to require something...extra of me. At least this Karasu was an attractive man. Some of my previous encounters were not so endowed.

He stood and quickly closed the distance between us with his long legs. He was a good two feet taller than myself. His hands encircled my neck, stroking down my unresponsive shoulders.

"You are a beautiful creature, you know that? If I hadn't hired you for other purposes that required your health I would ravage you senseless." He giggled.

His tongue swirled around my ear, tickling behind, dipping in. The cold air of his breath raised gooseflesh on my neck. I never bothered with pointless self-control.

"I would chain you down and carve your skin in more ways than one. I might've even gouged my name into your delicious flesh." His thin lips trailed the entire vicinity of my skin then claimed my moaning mouth in a vicious kiss that drew blood from my lips. "And intoxicate myself with your blood."

His cruel words awakened my demonic lust and I dragged his lips back down to mine with a growl. Only to have him chuckle coldly and allow his mouth to come barely within a hair's breath of mine, teasing me, enjoying the power he felt when allowed to dominate me.

I gasped when I felt his fingers against my chest, beneath my cloak and shirt. They were teasing little spiders against my flesh, though I could feel their restrained urge to tear into my skin. What a sadistic bastard. The long nails played lightly against my muscled stomach. "My oh my, you are a little hard body." He giggled at his own play on words. I bore the taunt, as the submissive should.

In these encounters the client was almost always dominant.

Perverse purple rapist eyes bore into me. I may have been drunk on desire, but my mind still functioned. I was only partly involved in this encounter. Nothing about it really invited my participation and I was free to observe my current partner's actions, analyze him. His actions dictated a power hungry son of a bitch that fed off of control - a true, dark hearted demon.

He simply lay there on his back after we had come in screaming climaxes; chest rising and falling is gasping breaths.

I had no wish to stay there longer than need be and so rose, albeit shakily, onto my elbows. Slowly, I stepped onto the floor. Each of the tavern's backrooms had an often-replenished washbasin for moments such as these. I found this room's hidden in the corner and rinsed both my and Karasu's ejaculate off of my body before redressing myself. Moving was an arduous process. I was not only tired and sexually satisfied, but he had achingly torn me inside with his ferocity. My blood turned the basin pink. But it had ceased bleeding soon enough. I could and had taken much more but that didn't mean that I liked the aftereffect.

From the bed, Karasu watched my movements with his eyes, "You are a handsome creature. I could get used to having you around."

"No," my response was flat.

He giggled, "Aw was I too rough on you?"

"Hn." More of his twisted laughter followed me out the door.

As I expected, the purple mole demon was seated at the bar waiting for his master to finish his business with me. I stood rather than sat next to him due to the brutalized condition of my ass. "How will I contact your master to arrange the trade once I have completed my given task?"

"You will find us." I silently glared at him. That was not a good enough answer. It took nearly a minute but he began to fidget under my gaze. "R-really, the-the best I can tell you is to ch-check back here."

"You can do better." I turned to see Karasu come towards us, fully dressed.

"Worthless mole. Hiei, I will always have someone stationed here because of the news that travels through these walls," he leaned in very close to my body and slipped the appropriately valued stones into my cloak pocket to cover the insurance price. "Simply come with a silver lock of the youko's hair around your wrist. My servant will find you and give you a black feather as proof. Their first words will be 'Karasu is glad to see you my friend." His last words were so quiet that I barely heard the whisper.

I nodded curtly and left the bar. I had had enough of the atmosphere and was ready to begin my hunt.

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That was my first attempt at any sort of lemon or lime scene. How'd I do?


	3. D Minor's Charm

Pretty Pendulum Chapter 3:  
  
D minor's charm  
  
Day-old rainwater dripped languidly from the ancient and rotting tiles. Clip, clip, clip – my dark boot heels sound above the milling the crowd. The murmur continuous and never ceasing in that busy market square. Stooped people walk with a depressing and callous air. Narrow faces, worn old clothing either a size too large or a size too small.  
  
Every once in a while, I could hear the shouting of raised voices in the white wash of noise, the splashing of many chamber pots' contents in the street gutters. It would travel down, whichever way that happened to be, at its own desired speed. Causing a curling scent behind its thickening trail. Skinny and bruised boy children would splash the mucky streams upon the saddest looking figure, or roll in it themselves for the glory – a bastard system of disgust.  
  
No animals roamed those streets well maybe I do remember a demonic chicken or two. Hardly pets, however, nuisances recruited for food that these people only thought they remembered how to cultivate. And then there were the scavengers. Those critters only appearing long enough to feast upon the sick and forgotten things of the town – if it could be called that – were an ugly hairy sight. Sometimes, if the hairless rodents were lucky enough, they would enjoy flesh of a weakened person so decrepit as to hard to distinguish from the animal.  
  
Money never lasted long. One night a person would earn his pitiful wage, by the next it would be spent upon anyone of a numerous number of things. Women, men, food, rarely clothing, watered down Maikai alcohol were usually top on the lists of those with any coin at all – not it that order. I couldn't believe that I found myself here time and time again, with the mighty air of a king. There is still no question that I was above them all, the outskirt community clinging to that last shred of dignity gone foul. It was dignity still.  
  
I forever marvel at what these desperate humans were reduced to. Those were the worst of the worst, the most luckless and dirty of the rare Maikai bred human. Their ancestors stumbled haplessly into a hole in the netting between the worlds. They pathetically clung to each other if fear and hatred of everything of this new world and formed this stinking pit of filth they call a great city.  
  
I suppose that new humans did occasionally join the fray in depressed fatigue, but most in that place didn't even remember that there was a world different from their own. The newcomers soon were driven to forget as well and, with it, their hope for any form of salvation.  
  
Demons didn't even bother to antagonize those humans. Those that did venture forth in the hopes of filling their bellies with the rarity of human flesh and blood soon learned that it wasn't worth the effort. They had lost their Ningenkai taste long ago. Soul eaters were a different story.  
  
Demon and human souls vary only on the very technical level, but it is just enough for Reikai folk and soul eaters to tell them apart. Human souls are a purer form of energy (lest that person be tampered with by darker forces) than those of demons. Supposedly they taste sweeter too, I wouldn't know. I guessed it is comparable to a tough steak versus tenderloin.  
  
Those humans may have been disgustingly primitive, but they were still human. And that's why I was there. I wasn't counting on any bit of intelligence on the part of the human occupants, only memory. Youko Kurama is hardly someone that can be easily forgotten.  
  
The first place I went after leaving that filthy tavern and Karasu's slithering presence was the Hidden Chronicle. Hardly hidden, it was the database, so to speak, of demonic history and culture. She made no effort to hide herself from the world, but simply hid the world from herself.  
  
Years and years ago, the ancient druids of Maikai – now practically an extinct race – charted the energy pathways of the earth and found their draining point, the point in the chain that all links gravitate towards and must pass through. Their secret knowledge that each person only passed on to one other person in their lifetime, allowed them to open up their beings to the currents and learn of absolutely everything through the visions in the moving links.  
  
The current keeper was called, simply, Madeline and presented herself as an open book. Few knew of her existence and even fewer really believed. That mystery kept her safe and her ties to the knowledge of the Maikai kept her free of fear.  
  
She was a surprisingly robust, young looking woman with bushy eyebrows and small eyes. Though one would never call her beautiful, she had an easy feeling about her. She was confidence without the need for any such displays, secure and happy in her life.  
  
She smiled often showing off her chipped and dinted yellow teeth. Rumour was that Madeline gained her sustenance from the energy she absorbed and chewed rocks to fill her illusory stomach. I had never seen her eat and so cannot prove the rumour one way or another.  
  
She greeted me with an engulfing hug to my great though tolerate displeasure. I nearly inhaled her frizzy, translucent hair and had trouble not choking in a very unapproppriate manner. I needed her good graces if I was to get the information I desired.  
  
Her living room was a small clearing to the east of a palm tree like forest with picked flowers spread in thick layers upon the ground. She sat me down and then moved to sit across from me.  
  
"I saw you coming Hiei child. What do you wish to know oh assassin of no clan?" a solid woman's voice without the airiness expected of someone in her spiritual trade.  
  
"What can you tell me of Youko Kurama? I already know the popular rumors."  
  
"You mean that gorgeous silver creature? Well he's a kitsune, but telling you more simply wouldn't be faaaii-iiirrr." A twinkle was in her eye and a singsong melody in her voice. I was annoyed but not exactly surprised by her response. She would only divulge what she willed.  
  
"Fine, have it your way. What can you tell me of kitsunes?"  
  
"Oh I shall, I shall. Well...they are rare spirits to see in this plain that's for sure – spirit foxes. They need to feed to stay corporeal, or feed to restore their strength if they have a stolen body of their own. They can feed on practically anything real...but souls are the most potent sources of energy. Um...the number of tails they possess indicates their power. They have powers of illusion, but that little thing there," she reached forward and tapped a finger upon the headband covering my jagan eye, "might negate those.... Ooo-ooo, and since they are spirits, they can become a tad enamored of physical experiences."  
  
When finished speaking, she quietly placed her hands in her lap and shut her eyes. Her entire body ceased all movement, her back straight, legs crossed, and arms loosely bent at the elbows. I took that as my cue to leave. Usually, I might have simply sped away and been a mile gone before the wind of my movement would have disturbed her. But I rose slowly, making sure there was nothing left she had to say.  
  
Her frozen posture never changed after a full five minutes time and then I left at my blinding speed. I tore free my jagan's cover, holding it in my right hand for the moment, and searched for my destination. I knew where I wanted to go. The rumors were too scattered and unreliable to chase down, but a soul eater was easy to find. They preferred the sustenance of human rather than demon and there was only one well-known permanent settlement of humans in the Maikai, the charming trash heap known as D Minor.  
  
I felt her mind's echo as I traveled. It was amused, hopeful, and impatient. What the Hell was going on?  
  
I felt my nose wrinkle in disgust at the shit that I could smell. The biting scent of piss wasn't far behind along those horribly soiled streets.  
  
The town's most crowded building was not surprisingly the large, decrepit bar with a brothel upstairs. If a person wanted information the best place to turn to was one of those two. Sex and alcohol were always in demand.  
  
A thin and frail looking woman greeted me from behind a great veil of tobacco smoke. Her movements were stiff, wary, and scared. She easily saw through my humanoid body to the fine demonic features and deadly aura. I snarled at her, displaying my sharp fangs with dangerous pride and watched with inner glee as her eyes widened in fear. Her hand compulsively grabbed for her throat in a gasp, the cheap bangles rattling. I not so gently brushed passed her prone form and used my impressive speed to materialize, standing, upon the bar; it was the highest surface on that floor. A few of the gaudy whores screamed in painfully shrill and thorny voices, one of the more sober men fainted right on the spot.  
  
"Who tha fuck 'er you?" drawled an obviously drunk man a few tables away.  
  
He didn't have a single strand of hair on his head, only a greasy, badly cut mustache. A flabby whore with the thinnest skin I had ever seen was bouncing nervously upon his knee. I spit hot saliva in his face and then hurled a ball of fire in their general direction.  
  
Over kill, yes, but the shrieking and the sizzling of all people in that section turned whatever attention had been focused elsewhere on me. For a full thirty seconds there was absolute silence only broken by the moaning of the charred humans. I made sure to control my flame. I wouldn't want to kill any possible wells of information.  
  
"Now listen you pieces of shit. I'm looking for information concerning a silver fox spirit called Youko Kurama," there was a unanimous second panic, though the demonstration consisted more of an inward fright. I nearly choked on the smell of fresh urine, pinning the man who had just pissed himself to the floor with my gaze. For the mere crime of disgusting me with his private fluids I shriveled his member with the intense heat of my glare.  
  
I allowed an amused smirk to cross my features, "I see you've heard of whom I speak. Tell me, has any human in this place simply disappeared – been abducted – or rendered soulless? If you give me what I wish I may choose not to incinerate you all."  
  
I observed their paling and sniveling terror with malicious pleasure. I rotated my head slowly facing all around the room and made brief but traumatizing eye contact with every inhabitant in there, including the pasty bartender trembling just below my feet. "Well...?"  
  
"I-I kn-know of someone wh-who disappeared after servicing a-"  
  
"I know what yer lookin' for," a gruff, growling voice spoke from the opposite side of the bar. I snapped his head behind him to face the man. He had greasy hair in long curls that fell unevenly about his neck and a 5 o'clock shadow shading his face. A stained canvas jacket hung loosely on his frame and an old and useless pipe stuck out from his chipped and teeth. His wide eyes and dilated pupils gave the impression that he was not entirely sane.  
  
"Yer lookin' for the Youko, he was here alright, didn't stay long to be sure, never does. He and him's crazy bat fella' were 'ere indeed."  
  
I must have growled then. My patience was drastically thinning at the incompetence of this crowd. If this man droned on any longer I may have simply decided to beat the information out of him. The thought was definitely appealing and picturing it helped prevent the action.  
  
"I gave 'em my bitch of a Mrs. in the hopes they'd teach 'er some sense. I dunno what really 'appened next. They were laughin' 'bout some some'en, waterfall maybe. Some'en to do with cold water an' grass. The bastards never brought 'er back. You go kill 'em an' bring me my doll back, eh?"  
  
"When were they here?" Water and grass – how the hell did that help me in the middle of the Maikai, an untamed region of wild, untended growth?  
  
"Uh, a couple o' days maybe. I dunno."  
  
I was gone, cleared of the entire village, before any of them realized I had left my position on the bar counter. I might as well have been flying from tree to tree with my innate speed.  
  
I stopped, perched upon the tallest tree, after a mile and untied the headband that hid my jagan eye. My perceptions immediately doubled and twisted upon each other, expanding. I had to close my normal eyes to properly focus on locating the fox.  
  
I could see everything with in a hundred miles at the same time. I was everywhere and nowhere within that dark and muted vision. The demonic auras were amplified above the natural energies of the earth and the sky – humans were dull blotches.  
  
I smiled a triumphantly malicious smile. There was my target, ridiculously easy to track for all the mystery and legend. Soon that white creature of mischievous glory would be my captive – I all the richer for it. In a way, I felt guilty for being the downfall of such beauty...almost. 


	4. Loyalty's An Enslaving Bitch

Much love goes out to all those who are reviewing this piece of fanfiction. I'm trying to add more paragraph breaks to make this a little easier to read. I noticed that some of my paragraphs were becoming lengthy and, while appropriate for a book, I found them to be hard on the eyes when reading an Internet story.

And by the way, yes I promise that that (back to the Hiei and Karasu scene) was my first lemon I ever wrote. I openly welcome any suggestions a person may have as to my writing. I'm playing around with different styles and trying to really get back in the swing of things so I apologize if some things may seem a little broken.

I don't own the characters of Yu Yu Hakusho – duh.

**Pretty Pendulum Chapter 4:**

**Loyalty's an Enslaving Bitch**

I gazed at this demonic being through my third eye and unbidden came the feeling of Karasu upon me, his raking nails and pitiless demonstration of dominance and power. Sensations came again to my flesh. I couldn't understand why it would return with such a dirty vengeance. I had been used before. I had used others before. This man Karasu was no different and yet my gut clenched, that instinctual reaction to pain, fear, anguish, and dread at the sight of this white being of evil.

I shivered, the chilling vibration running up my spine in an unnamable word of foresight, loathing…guilt? I closed my eye, for just a moment, to clear my disoriented mind. I was the hunter, this _thing_ before me was no person worthy of my compassion. This _thing_ was my prey. I was the hunter and I could smell his blood hot in my nostrils, feel his illusory flesh beneath my nails, his hair gripped viciously within my fist. He was to be my captive, not a person…not a person at all.

I looked again, with a calmer mind. He was sprawled dreamily upon the ground, next to the trunk of a large tree…and he was not alone. A few paces away wandered a chimera with bat wings and elfin ears peaking out beyond a wide hat brim – the likely origin of the tales of the Youko's chimera minions. Both were well muscled, but lean and quite feminine at first glance. It was no wonder they had followers desperate for their amorous attention.

The chimera's gait spoke of habitual wariness and numerous sickles of various sizes dangled from his belt. The Youko slept soundly under the guard of this man. There was trust between them, trust in abilities at least.

If I were to somehow deliver this kitsune alive, he would need to be tricked and to do that I needed to know him. And so I continued to watch these two. I haunted their movements with my jagan eye for 10 months, give or take. I made sure to cloak my signature with dampening wards, a necessary tool of stealth for all assassins. I always carried a bundle of various wards – not all harmless – in a small sack secured to my ring of belts. By mixing a drop of my own blood into each and every inkwell I used to write the wards, I prevented the more dangerous of ones from harming me. If I could not apply them without suffering myself, what was their use?

I kept my distance, always observing via jagan, any closer would have risked too much. I knew not the skills of these two thieving warriors, if warriors they were, and so kept out of their range.

In ten months' time I had learned of the intimate relationship between those two. The aching, lustful jealousy that sometimes accompanied my observations was tolerable, worked away by my own hand when all else failed. I was disgruntled but acceptant of my reaction. Everyone worth their skin in the Maikai knew of the allure of kitsunes. Spirits gifting the corporeal plain with their presence was what they were. And all of us purely mortal demons could only breathe in their glory and hope for them to look our way.

I had not entirely believed that the mere presence of this species could bring forth such powerfully physical reactions, but I learned. And I noted that this power was especially deadly to myself. Things became all the more complicated with that unintentional seduction. I found I was forced to regard him as an object of sex rather than anything else to avoid my own contamination.

I now laugh at my naïveté.

But there was more than the simplicities of lust in the eyes of the two lovers in my view. They truly loved each other, and passionately so. When I first realized this, my irrational and shocking anger, panic, envy overwhelmed myself. I built a wall of hatred that boiled beneath the delicacy of my skin and fueled my pyretic aura. My recovered rational froze the wall and likened it to the touch of iced steel. Outwardly I grew colder, while I burned my insides to ash – the extremities of Hell. My bitch mothers would be so proud of their forbidden son.

I also discovered the loyalty and surprising honor within each of these men, more prominently so in the chimera than the Youko as would be expected. Endearing chocolate that I could use to spread upon and lick clean my ire.

But I _knew_ that there could be no honor nor trust nor _love_ in a demon's world – well, naught more than the honor between thieves, the trust between sworn enemies, and the love between victim and predator. These two men came to signify the impossible, what I _knew_ to be impossible. And I learned to hate them for it. I was determined to prove them wrong.

I was tired of waiting. I knew all I needed to know. And so I moved.

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It was raining. Is it only raining in my memories? Or was it truly raining in reality? It seems too coincidental: the sky shedding tears for the brave. Nevermind. It doesn't matter.

It was raining and the Youko was playing in the water, a kit dancing in celebration of the rain. The chimera's adoring eyes were watching him dance from the safety of the trees' shelter. The Youko jumped into puddles near his lover, splashing him every time. He was laughing, trying to convince his lover to join him in the rain. But his lover was adamant and told with loving admonishment that he was not for frolicking in the rain. A lewd motion of his hips followed the remark before he turned and walked back to where the two had slept the night before. The Youko laughingly yelled after the chimera that he should just go fuck himself if he was so inclined and had the not the patience to wait.

I took it all in from my vantage point in the tree tops only a few hundred yards away, maintaining the distance as I stalked the chimera. My positioning was deadly and deadly intended was my mind. The chimera was settling in against a tree, pouting as stubborn liquid drops wove their way down to him through the canopy above. Why he didn't choose to retreat out of the rain and into the cave he sat not a mere two feet away from? Ah I see, the rigid line of his shoulders and back dictated that he had felt me, well more like to a distortion of unfamiliar and dooming energy. The wards still masked any real clue of my existence.

Timing was absolutely crucial. In my observations I had seen him fight off a few formidable demons into whose territory the two thieves might have wandered. He was good – experienced, fast, intelligent. But I was still faster, sneakier and had less honor – still better. The honor of this creature would be his downfall, that I had decided a long while ago. Call it my sense of sadistic and self-lifting irony.

I had lost the true but not the total element of surprise. But I had to wait for the chimera to make a mistake and I had to move quickly enough to have his life in my deciding hands by the time the Youko made his grand entrance.

He stood. That's it, that's it, now just a little bit further. He was nearing my hiding spot. His path would take him just barely beneath my location within the trees. The rattling of chain indicated his arming. One more step…now!

I pounced with my unnatural speed to land on the ground in front of him. I halted my movements just long enough for him to see me and cry out to his partner. Yell, I thought, bring him here. Let him see you in disgrace. Let you be the one to secure him to my side.

I drew my katana, my longest weapon, and purposefully missed his body instead tangling the chains of his sickles around my blade. The ensnared katana I stabbed deep within the rain-softened earth. This rendered both his and my weapons useless along with temporarily chaining him to the ground. The problem for him was that the katana was not my only weapon and I was much too swift to allow him the necessary time to free himself from his weapon. I had caught him completely unprepared. No one in all of his days had tried to foul his weapon before his body and he was not ready. The chains hindered his movements completely.

I used the opportunity to ward him with strips of immobilizing spells. They weren't true motion inhibitors; those were of the brand of powerful magicks that could only be writ by witches and wizards. Mine only slowed the bearer down, making all of their movements jerky and difficult.

The Youko wasn't close enough yet. I had to stall for time.

I leered up at the chimera's defiant face and spoke with naught but contempt in my voice.

"What is your name?"

"My name does not matter." I kicked him with the hard toe of my boot, crushing his right kneecap with the distinctive crunching of shattered bone. The join could no longer support his leg, but the ward did not let him adjust in time to catch his falling body. He fell hard, face first in the dirt. He didn't scream, just gasped. Bright and sticky perspiration appeared as if by magick atop his skin. I grabbed his hair and wrenched his torso upright.

"Your name is Kuronue. I've heard him call you by that many times." My statement was toned exactly as was my question before it. He had to know that my act of violence was trivial.

His eyes, the only part of his body free enough to move as quickly as his surprise warranted, snapped wide open with panicked lightning in my direction. I leaned in close and my words smoothed to pitying mockery, "Yes, I've been watching you. But you knew that didn't you? You felt me hiding there, always there and you never said anything, attributed it always to another thing. I saw you look right at me more than once and then, each time, you would look away. But that's all right, you're still young and he is careless. You were both naïve and…distracted. So you see, it's not your fault that…he's going to die."

I inwardly smirked at his guilty tension and hopeful fear. He was barely older than myself. I could tell by the texture of his skin, the clear fluid of his eyes, the habits of his mouth – he had lived a romanced life and the Youko had been his prince. I felt sorry for his death. And I wished that I didn't have to kill him.

In that one moment when I looked into his desperate face and smelled his damp skin, I could understand why the Youko loved this man. Maybe I should say this boy. In that moment when I was torturing him, tricking him into the actions I would soon need, I came to not hate him. My jealousy was stupid and unwarranted because of me and because of him.

My expression softened a little then I saw the reflection of something very white dash across Kuronue's pupil. It was just enough to alert me to the Youko. There was no need for me to hide the energy of my jagan any longer and so I unmasked it to find the troublesome fox.

I knew they both felt the energy, the sudden air-blurring power of my jagan contaminating the natural setting of the forest. Kuronue's eyes grew to even larger sizes.

"I see you Youko Kurama." Silence. I smiled inwardly, yes watch me, spy on me, try and use your wit to outsmart me for it will all fail you in the end just as this one's loyalty will destroy you.

"And you see me. But do you see your precious lover?" I changed my position so as to stand behind Kuronue, my double-edged dagger to his neck. I burned away the wards. For this to work, his arms needed to be free.

"Come before me or you will never do so again." There he was all defiant and angry, but outwardly cold and calculating. His step had yet to gain the hitch of tension.

"Don't touch him," he snarled.

I laughed, "I will do as I please. Let me explain this as plainly as I can. If I free this man you must agree to come with me freely, without causing any problems for myself, to my determined destination. He must not attempt to interfere. From there you will no longer be my charge and I couldn't care less. If _I_ kill him the agreement is void."

I had to speak slowly. If the Youko decided to reject the offer or show any sign that he would, Kuronue would lose his desire to save the fox with his own life. There had to be time for Kuronue to become desperate before this could happen. If the Youko proved to be truly loyal, as I believed he would, then all the better. I paused for a few moments before delivering my next sentence.

"On your word as a kitsune, what do you say?" I pressed the knife deeper into Kuronue's skin, causing a few dribbles of blood to spill down his smooth neck. There was no question as to the sharpness of the blade.

The kitsune opened his mouth to speak. His head was hung low in defeat, his eyes staring at the ground. "Alright, I promise. Now let him go."

"Kurama no!" Kuronue reached out and grabbed my armed hand as I pulled it away. I wonder if he even considered that I didn't fight him at all when he slammed my hand and knife into his chest. The edge slipped through the bones as it would through water, piercing straight through to his heart.

"You fool," I muttered.

Kurama stood there immobile. He knew what had happened just as well as I did…and there was nothing he could do about it.

I hadn't killed Kuronue. He had killed himself in an attempt to free Kurama from his promise. Instead, Kurama was mine _and_ his lover was dead. Kurama would want to hate me, - would hate me. But hate for the death of his lover was unjustified and he couldn't hate Kuronue so the guilt would eat away at him, having no other place to go.

I retied my headband.

"Come pet. There is no longer anything here for you." I kicked the corpse, whether for emphasis or for personal confirmation I've never really been sure.

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Well that's that for now. Please RR!


	5. Frost on the Petals of Summer

A "Thank You" to all my reviewers

**Devil's Wings**: I hear you. Karasu and Hiei isn't exactly a match made in Heaven. And don't you worry, Kurama will be wheedling himself into Hiei's life in future chapters.

**Ko-krama**: Thank you, I was worried that I narrate too much without enough action to support it. I've also been trying to keep the characters somewhat in character with the story, while also having them work for my purposes. I justify my alterations by the story being AU.

**DarkKittyCat**: Lol, don't stress yourself out over it.

**MultifacetedTune**: Just wanted to mention that I really like your username.

**Kit Airiden**

**Princess Forever**

**Infamous Lord Dilandau**

**Tetsumi**

**Foxrose**

**Volpe Di Spirito**

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Unbalanced Pendulum 

**Chapter 5: Frost of the Petals of Summer**

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Kurama's POV

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I couldn't move. I was bound by my oath to obey the stranger's command,

"Come pet. There is no longer anything here for you,"

and yet my mind couldn't seem to understand the words. All I saw was Kuronue's body, the vessel that had housed my love, my trust, and my unequaled joy, lying there upon the ground.

His skin had not yet lost its youthful luster and probably still retained its warmth. But his eyes, his beautiful dark eyes had faltered in their intensity. I had seen death, had inflicted it myself in many of the worst ways, but his staring grayed eyes reached slimy feelers into the darkest shadows of my mind and rattled my very spirit. I was too disturbed to even shiver. He held no expression in death. He had no idea of the consequences of his rash actions. But then this was my fault. I had taken him in at too young an age and protected him too well. He was my love, my one precious thing that I would always protect. I had apparently done both too much and not nearly enough. I should have been wiser. But I had been arrogant and now Kuronue was dead.

I couldn't even flinch when the stranger kicked his body onto his back and removed the knife. Fresh blood spread outward from the wound. Through the grass I could feel his physical energy seep into the earth as all things eventually do. It warmed my frozen limbs just a little. My breath came back to me in quick and shallow spurts not even deep enough to move my chest or stomach. But then there were his blank eyes again, staring at the cruel world from behind stray locks of tangled black hair.

I'd never been one for romance in the general sense of the word. I had never fallen into my lover's eyes; never found nirvana within their depths. But here they were so completely and unmistakably dead. And all the light that lifted his face into princely beauty was gone. He was still a gorgeous man, but all his fire had turned to unfriendly ash and I didn't know what to do.

I vaguely noticed that the stranger was collecting his fallen sword and giving me at least a few moments to collect myself. Then again, perhaps the latter was just my vulnerable mind creating false illusions in the search for something to cling to. Because I then saw Kuronue's body consumed in black flames. I could first feel the protest of the grass crushed beneath his flesh then hear the sound of his hair sizzling into nothing. It was when the first smells of cooking meat rose into the air that the stranger demanded my attention with a mental urging that I could not ignore.

"Come."

I followed a good ten paces behind. My step was graceful still, but it lacked my normal playfulness. I rather felt like a shadow of death than a stalker of games. I suppose my outward appearance was calm. Maybe the stranger could read the distance in my eyes. Maybe not. Maybe he wasn't looking.

I never looked back at my fallen comrade, friend, partner, lover – in a century I might have even called him my husband, though the implications of that would have been the ruin of my reputation. I didn't want to see his scared flesh rippling in the heated air. I didn't want to ever see him dead again. But what I would have given to resurrect him, to see a glimmer of the devil he was within those eyes. What I would have given to hold his warm being in my arms again – to hear him scream my name in ecstasy and feel him do the same to me. I would have given anything…except my life. As I walked, and then ran, farther and farther from my beloved's corpse I realized that I would have done _anything_ to save him _except_ give up my life. It would have been a lie to say that I had nothing left to live for after his death. I had me. I had the perpetual continuation of me to motivate my survival. He had given his life to save me – not even my life but my freedom and _my happiness_!

If I had been a normal minded creature the blow would have knocked me silly and I would have stopped running, stopped walking, and would have simply stood there, mind shocked at how deep Kuronue's loyalty to me ran. But I was not and I did not. I kept walking in my epiphany-induced daze. I had never realized just how young and naïve he was. And I loved him even more for it. I felt I would burst or dance until I collapsed from exhaustion and could do nothing more than lie on the forest floor and laugh in my merriment because of the love I felt for him at that single split-second of time.

I might have actually laughed aloud because the stranger turned his burning red gaze my way in annoyance. His annoyed glance seemed funnier than the greatest blunders of mankind and I really did laugh outright. But I didn't stop walking. I, in fact, kept walking right passed this little demon. And then my laughter ceased just as suddenly as it had begun and I waited for him to retake the lead.

I'm not sure if I can accurately explain his expression just then. He wasn't angry, confused, or impatient with me. He seemed bored – no, more like he was attempting boredom to mask curiosity. His lip twitched. Smug? I didn't have the capacity at that moment to understand or analyze. So I stood and waited with my arms, limp as though I had forgotten I possessed them, dangling at my sides. We must have remained that way for many minutes before he took deliberate steps forward and passed my person. That look never left his face until he was in front of me. From behind I could see the muscles around his eyes and mouth relax into a neutral expression.

I knew that Kuronue was dead, the feeling that I my chest had been crushed told me that, but I also knew that I didn't really know it yet. I would have to figure a way to deal soon because if I didn't, these unnamable and foreign feelings would destroy me.

I was terrified…because I knew something horribly volatile was trapped within me. I was terrified at what would happen when it broke free. I was terrified at what I would become – at what I wouldn't become. And somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I was terrified at what this stranger would do with me now that I was bound to him.

I was absolutely terrified.

I kept walking.

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Sorry that the chapter is so short (only two pages!), but I wanted to get something written so that my reviewers don't desert me. This probably should have been part of chapter four now that I really think about it. I didn't want to add anything afterward because I thought that this worked best standing on its own.


	6. Of Insects and Arachnids

"Thanks" to all my reviewers:

Devil's Wings

Noriko

Darksaphire

Kooriya Yui

Nasa Ow/d Maxwell

What2callmyself

Comicfancat

DarkKittyCat

Sisko66002

MikaSamu

Kara

Volpe Di Spirito

Kudaran

Dash Conlon

Madame Shannon

Mala Darkling

ForeverAiko

Alice15

A/N: I used this chapter to clear up any questions that my reviewers might have had about the oath Kurama made and whatnot.

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Unbalanced Pendulum Chapter 6: Of Insects and Arachnids 

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Hiei's POV

It was incredibly difficult not to turn and look at this strange creature at my back that I had caught within my web. I was the spider, perhaps, that had lost an eye to the beautiful sheen of a dragonfly's wings. So utterly different from my black, eight-legged exterior was it that I almost forgot the relationship between a hunter and its pray. Only brought back to my senses by the trembling of the dirty housefly behind its head. In my stupor I watched the shiver travel through my web and up my limbs to shake me free of my distraction. Seeing the two flies in one eye I am now. Two flies. In my haste I tremble and I quake. I trample the shimmering insect to reach the dark and ugly thing it shields and make quick work of _that_ pray. And now, with the silver dragon shackled at my back, I dare not turn around.

It was peculiar that I was so fascinated by this creature. His body gave off no sound now: no step, no swish, so sigh. He was silent to the point where I even doubted my own awareness that spoke to me of his presence. Of course, only superficial doubts, my jagan eye could not be fooled. Of that, at least, had I unerring confidence.

The creature's earlier display was enough for my to ponder, I didn't need to turn and discover more. He was shocked…and then he laughed, laughed at the death of his partner and supposed love! At his easy capture and ensnaring, I half expected tears. The oddest part, however, was the nature of this laugh. It was not cold, nor mirthful, nor the cackling of one insane; it was not one of those things. It was all and more. I cannot describe the chill, the pain, and the anger _I_ felt at the laugh. And so how can I begin to describe that which _he_ felt. Of that I was confused.

But I had begun to regain my sense of self before long. And the tickling of his odd habits left my mind alone. I realized how careful I must be around this one. I sensed no terrible fear from him, as one would have expected. Neither did I sense a colder, aggressive side, or the bitterness of resignation. From the creature came…nothing. It was not an attempted nothing, but an honest nothing. And I was drawn to the void by curiosity. And so I forced myself to turn farther and farther away; far enough away until I found myself at a revolution, getting closer and closer to where I didn't want to be.

I clamped down hard on my thoughts at that. I regained my precious assassin's control. And focused on where, and how, we would stop on our return journey to that fateful tavern now on the other side of the world.

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Kurama's POV

I couldn't remember having stopped. Yet, when I was next aware, the sun had long ago set below the dank horizon and I was no longer walking. I was, in fact, sitting cross-legged with my back leaning against a large tree trunk. My neck and shoulders stiffened in soft surprise and I heard myself give a faint gasp. I was suddenly in the hot straight from the cold. The heat of the fire was answered by a shiver in my spine and a quickening of my breath for another shallow inhale. And my ears twitched in irritation. That's when I noticed the gaze across the fire.

Red eyes with an animal's reflection same as mine stared unwaveringly at me. The eyes of Kuronue's doomer – for I couldn't call him a murderer, though that role he had surely fulfilled – and the eyes of my captor. I hated him. He had killed my lover, my love, and he had made me hate myself. So for that I hated him.

I could feel his unceasing gaze boiling my blood, his fire feeding the turmoil inside my mind and body, fueling the itching hatred underneath my skin. Inside my very bones was there chaos and my clawed fingernails rang so loudly in my head that I wanted nothing more than to stab them deep into something impossibly hard and then tear them off at the source just to be rid of them for every part of my body sang for vengeance, but I was bound by oath to not harm this man before me. At every rebellious thought – and there were many – I screamed to be rid of the temptation. I wished to be harmless because then the grief and frustration would not be so great. My treachery and honorless honor could then be ignored and forgotten, dismissed.

For a moment, I wished to be able to kill myself for that had not been promised against. But then I hated him more for being able to provoke such weakness. I was determined to live if for no other reason than to survive. I would not die.

Outwardly, I appeared unchanged from my initial wake up. My face was devoid of my internal battle. I closed my eyes in a long, languid blink to hide what anger might have escaped my grasp. The color of my irises was likely to have darkened or even swirled in my struggle for control. I was well aware of _his_ scrutiny. Until I knew how to play this situation, I would let nothing slide. All of the first moves would be given to my captor. For now, I could not afford to let guilt, revenge, …or grief…cloud my judgment. That would all come when I was once again safe no matter how long that would take. I was determined to give Kuronue my due attention as soon as I was able. But I would not throw away my life just to be hasty in my mourning. _That_ would be utterly pointless and ungratefully wasteful.

We sat in silence. I let him study me and he let me study him.

He couldn't have been older than Kuronue – not quite a mere century old! He had experienced eyes. They were intense but had not the depth of someone of, say, my age. One didn't acquire that until they had played witness to the passage of at least half a millennia. I could have told him his life after only a few days of study. There were only so many things that could happen to age a youth and bring him to skill so quickly. (For I did recognize it, his skill.) Kindness was not one of them. Nor was it trauma for he never once flinched. No, the muscles of his forehead told that brutality had been his parent, guardian, and partner since birth.

I could've smiled, and I know Kuronue would have had his spirit then inhabited mine. The _boy_ would be such an easy lock to pick. I could already see the first tendril beginning to waiver in his self-protecting cage. Oh yes, I would get my revenge. He would die in the same way Kuronue had, only this time I would smile instead of quail.

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Hiei's POV

This _thing_'s calm disturbed me. I could not understand his flawless demeanor. I could not read his eyes as I was used to doing, they would give away nothing. But I could not accept his silence as true. I knew the plots were flying through his mind. The words "the fraud of age" came to mind. It was a phrase I'd heard rarely but read often. The term was used to describe the impenetrable wall that the elders of a society would use to protect whoever or whatever they chose. They would form a circle, sitting upon the ground. Some cults would send their spirits directly through each other at ever increasing speed to form the solidity of the wall. Others would merely hold hands or draw a seal surrounding them all with varying powders. The energy generated could be focused upon one thing and act as a power source and protector. Or it could be the focus. That's what the Youko's eyes reminded me of: a beautiful shield that hid unnamable secrets of barely contained violence.

And yet, all mystery aside, I could not help but pride myself in the cleverness of my deceit. I knew how highly spirits valued honesty. Perhaps it had something to do with the power of their gods (for they were all truly nothing but terrestrial servants of a greater being). I didn't believe in my having gods to worship and respect, but the gods of spirits were real, not ideas. They didn't _have_ to be believed in because they were. They were the nonpareils of their supreme and ancient race and thus allowed to spawn a species to serve them. But no god gave rise to me. No goddess conceived my soul within her womb. I was a demon, a being of evolution and the natural unnatural ways of the world. Gods had no hand in me. So I didn't really care about their power and their influence. They may be gods to some, but I was beyond their reach. _My_ gods were no more than the other demons higher in class than I. And I didn't have to pay homage fear was enough for them. To exist as a demon one must learn how to fear. To live as a demon one must learn how to induce fear. And so I preyed upon the differences between my riven and I. I stole his will by binding his freedom to act with no more than feeble words. He was such a pathetic creature to be so easily restricted.

It was easy to focus upon the few faults of his that I knew: his honesty, his trust, and his "love." In this there was solid ground. I would wait for the magma that was his dogma to cool before setting foot upon it.

I eventually slept, though light enough to awaken at a cricket's foreign chirp. I had confidence in my safety. There was no way he could harm me or try to leave. Even if he rebelled with everything in his being, the power of his god within him would not allow him to break.

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Kurama's POV

I didn't dare stir after my captor had fallen asleep. The entire night I sat and gazed upon his childlike face. It appeared so young in slumber that my breath again caught in appreciation of his youth and beauty. It would make my false attraction that much easier. I would fool myself. Honesty was the best of actors.

'Forgive me Kuronue,' I thought, 'you must understand what I am doing.'

It had been less than one day and I had already separated myself from Kuronue. It was dangerous, to let the grief fester. But I had not the choice. I prayed Kuronue would understand and accept my lament when it would come.

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A/N: That chapter wasn't all that much longer, sorry. Once I get passed these first nights the chapters will have more action and be longer.

I made up "the fraud of age" and the reference to gods.

Please Review


	7. The Erosion of Stone

A/N:

Sorry for the long wait. I recently acquired the entire Yu Yu Hakusho series on DVD so guess what I've been doing with my spare time?

Also, I'd like to say one thing about this story's plot. Until the story reaches the "trouble zones" the plot might seem a little slow. The more passive chapters will likely have a lot of time passing between each one and will be more of a psychological story rather than an action packed one. Those who like action (should check out my story A Well Too Deep) shouldn't worry though it will come.

THANKS TO MY REVIEWERS!

**MikaSamu** – thanks, I was trying to prove that I wasn't moving forward too quickly with

the plot.

**Shinigami Chylde** - ::blush::

**MultifacetedTune** – sure, I'd love to hear how you came up with your pen name

**Tetsumi** – haven't heard from you for a while, welcome back

**Kodaijin Hiei** – I have some authors I could suggest that you read. If you think I'm the

best then they might just blow you away.

**DashAway ** - cute username. I only hope my "cleverness" lives up to your expectations.

MistressKC Volpe di Spirito Darksaphire What2callmyself Mala Darkling Satya Maxwell Comicfancat DarkKittyCat Kuranga108 Will'sGirl IrIdEsCeNtMoOn Golden I Don't Care FoxyFire Ko-krama Devil's Wings

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Unbalanced Pendulum 

**Chapter 7: The Erosion of Stone **

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Hiei's POV

It was raining again. Rain always reminded me of misery. The skies were crying. They had cried for me. They had cried for Kuronue and _him_. Why shouldn't the rain bring on feelings of hopelessness and the need to hurt? Maybe it's because I have a masochistic side – what the Hell – of course it's because I have a masochistic side, that I dredge up the worst of me when it rains. (Splish, splash.) If something is so terrible that the world must spill these torrential tears, shouldn't I feel terrible too? I could be in the prime of my mood and the rain would drag me down to the lowest of self-pities. (Splish, splash.) I would never cry my own solid gems to join the Earth's. I wasn't worthy. I would just remember why I should loathe myself and brood.

It had begun as a few small droplets that I had ignored. Shaken them off, as one should ignore inconvenient weather. But intuition told me this rain would be terrible, that it wouldn't stop for hours, maybe days. And here I would be, trapped, with no purpose in genesis rains. Yet I traveled on. I didn't want to stop for _this_ rain. Somehow, I knew that if I did, I might not be able to start again. And I had no idea why.

_He_ was silently padding along behind me. Nigh eight days and he still hadn't spoken a single word to me. However nothing about him led me to believe he disliked me at all, which confused me the most of all his antics. If not because I killed his lover, then surely he should hate me for steeling his freedom. He was an animal spirit for the gods' sake! He should want to tear me apart, quite literally too, for capturing his soul! And yet he was no longer even cold to me, only silent. Impassive, perhaps, but not aggressive or uncaring. I was at a loss.

Then it began to rain harder. The drops were still light but were high in number. My apathy had begun to set in. (Splish, splash.) I think _he_ noticed. How one can notice apathy from walking behind a person who hasn't spoken a word for hours, I don't know. From him I learned how many things I didn't know. He increased his pace for a few steps until he was nearly level with me. And then continued at my set pace. I wouldn't look at him. I didn't want to see what was written on his face.

Another hour passed and the rain had become blinding. It stung against my skin. I could feel myself sinking into my depressed well. (Splish, splash.) I didn't want to stop. I never wanted to stop and hide from the rain. It seemed more right to just continue on, driving senselessly through its cold, wet, and now painful barrage. Doing that, I thought, would be more respectful of these tears.

I nearly forgot the ghostly white presence beside me as I ran, faster and faster. (Splish.) I could feel myself spinning out of control and I knew I had to stop or else what little control remained to me would be wrenched forcefully from my bleeding hands. By myself this was fine. I could outrun the rain – I had done it before. But _he_ could not. And the harder I pushed my speed, the closer to his limit he came. I couldn't leave him far behind, or have him press too hard against his breaking point. For I didn't know exactly how he would interpret his promise. Would he fall behind and still follow, or try to follow and fall? If I waited much longer I would collapse, gasping, into my suffocating oil spill. And I couldn't have him see that.

I stopped abruptly, sliding a few feet in the mud. My chest was heaving more than it should have. I focused, for a moment, on calming myself. Then, I felt a light pressure on my shoulder. (Splash.) Surprised, I looked up into his face…and almost wilted.

He was gorgeous in the rain. Skin pale enough to be nearly white. Even in this cold there was no flush to his cheeks. Stray strands of hair clung to face and neck, making me realize how fragile the locks really were. His expression was soft, not truly concerned or aloof…just wondering, curious. The long fingers lying on my shoulder were light and uncompromising, only heavy enough to get my attention and…perhaps…give comfort? In my state of rising pain, faced with _him_, I was so confused. And, suddenly, I felt terribly young.

"Should I make us a shelter?" he spoke. The forest's trees were thin in this area, little protection could be offered by their branches. I could do nothing but nod. …He spoke.

He removed his hand from my shoulder and it left me hungry for the small heat it had provided. He walked a short ways off the path that I had been forging and began molding the plants to his preference. I had seen him create similar short-term dwellings for himself and Kuronue during my time observing them. This was the closest I had ever been, though. I could see him clearly. He was playing with the flora as if they were children to be cared for and rewarded, coaxing here, growing there. I almost forgot the rain.

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Kurama's POV

To be genuinely worried and yet pretend that I wasn't, while all the while planning to kill on the most basic of levels. A pretense built atop a lie that was convincing enough to fool the liar. It was dangerous. The same current that held afloat the fool's raft could also sweep away the liar. For I was just that, genuinely worried for this little demon.

His aura had begun to deepen in color with the first scent of rain. And his speed had increased, almost recklessly. Now he had ceased running and stood still for ten minutes. All the while his aura was nearing true, impenetrable black. That's when I stepped in and touched his shoulder. I didn't know what I was doing, really. I only knew that I didn't want to see his aura that color. He didn't startle, only his head rolled to look at my hand then his eyes blinked upwards to my face. They were so listless and distant, his eyes, when they looked my way, gradually focusing as they traced the contours of my face. I nearly smiled, but clamped down on that impulse before I could. I knew my behavior confused him. I had to keep him off balance to open his mind to me. But too sudden a change would make him suspicious no matter what state he was currently in.

It was the rain that had caused this. And so I would get him out of it. "Should I make us a shelter?" I asked. He nodded wordlessly.

It was easy enough to construct. The littlest sliver of power was required to cause the near vegetation to grow and meld together into a makeshift dome large enough to comfortably house the demon and myself and thick enough to keep out the rain. I ducked inside the small entrance to smooth the inner walls and ceiling. The ground was still annoyingly muddy within the shelter so I grew a few twigs into bench-like logs as well – rather wet wood than wet soil. I stepped back outside and found the demon where I had left him, watching me.

Hardly shy, I knew the state my thin, white garments were reduced to in rain. No doubt he had noticed my near-nakedness, but did not seem in the frame of mind to notice. The longer he was isolated in the rain, the more he withdrew into himself. Now it was my turn to wonder. How had an assassin become so accomplished with a weakness such as this? Surely this wasn't the first time he had been caught in the rain with a target. In fact, it was raining the day he killed Kuronue…

I nodded in his direction, gesturing for him to come with my hand. He ignored the bench, opting to sit with his back against the wall exactly opposite the door. Knees pulled to his chest, arms around his knees. He looked so forlorn. My chest ached and my curiosity burned to see him this way. I wanted to know why and how he had survived with this…condition (for that matter, what this condition was). But even stronger was my urge to comfort him. So small and young in a way that Kuronue had never been. There was a deeper consciousness beneath those eyes that attracted me (Kuronue forgive me).

I settled onto my stomach on the long bench, head resting on my folded arms. Too gone was he to notice my watching him this night. Three hours must have passed without a word. Nothing was unusual about that. Our rests were always silent. The rain steadily poured. I could feel the walls mulching under the assault. This wouldn't do at all.

I urged a vine to extend to me from the wall, placing two seeds in its grip and sending it crawling up to the ceiling. A number of thin creeping stems sprouted and wove their way through the structure, sprouting a mixture of sticky, bulbous flowers and soft, cotton-like ones every half a foot. White Balsam to make the refuge a little more waterproof and Black Root (with a touch of youki) to solidify the walls. A soft sound made my large ears twitch. I trusted my plants to continue their work independently, choosing to focus my attention on the creator of that small whimper.

"How can you stand it?" his voice was soft and vulnerable, a tone I'd have never thought to hear him use.

"The rain?" I asked. He nodded. "To me…it signifies life. I am a manipulator of plants. I can hear them and they worship the rain. Without it, they would die…we would all die. It is something they celebrate and so, because of them, do I."

"Then why do you not dance?"

"I am their master, not one of them. Why do you not dance in the rain?" I watched carefully, hoping that my question wouldn't cause the demon to retreat back into his self.

"How can I celebrate pain?" He spoke with vehemence, seeming to attack me with the hopes that I would win. I didn't quite know of what he spoke so I answered the question straightly, without trying to figure out what it had to do with rain.

"By acknowledging it and moving on."

Silence once again fell. I think he was waiting for me to elaborate, but I didn't. What I had said was true, though not in this case…not for me. I caught myself before continuing that trail of thought. I had to be careful now. This was treading too closely to my raw heart.

"What is your name?" I asked. I was lucky to catch him at such odds. An assassin would not otherwise freely give their name to their captives. He looked up, startled a little at the seeming change of topics.

"Hiei."

"Hiei." I repeated it. Testing the word on my tongue. It was a good name for him. I decided I liked calling him by that name. "Hiei, I will not long be absent." He didn't even look my way when I left.

Outside, the noise of the falling water was multiplied tenfold. My ears folded back against my scalp in displeasure. I realized it would be pointless to try and find a body of water by smell, sight, or sound. But the plants would know. They were quick to aid their master. Not too far from here, a ten minute run and no more. Perfect.

---------------------

Hiei's POV

My mind had shut down and my body was not far behind. I didn't want to be here. It was one thing to be in these dreadful rains. It was so much worse to hide from them in here. But I could not move. Seemingly against my will I had ended up in here: wet, cold, lonely, depressed, resentful, hateful, …and scared. What was I scared of?

I felt strong arms surround me and I clung to their heat, not really knowing what was going on. My knuckles had gone white. If I could've pressed my entire self into that warmth, I would have. Phased straight into whatever was giving off such desirable warmth. I buried my face and hands in its folds, biting down when I could go no further. Taking the heat into myself if I could not enter it.

Then I felt the rain, loud as static thunder in my ears and hard as falling stones against my exposed body. This was right. The rain should hurt me. Just as falling, stinging ice should hurt me. Ice crumbling from an ancient land that had only ever known cold. The same cold that threatened to consume my fire and extinguish every flame. Fire, the antithesis of ice.

I went limp. This was right.

But I didn't fall. I was held. I should be falling, but I wasn't. I looked up for the first time since I'd felt the heat. White. Gold. There were no blues here. But there was wind and rain…and it was so cold! It doesn't make sense!

I was suddenly shaken from my hallucinations by warm water all around me. My eyes could finally see what held me…it was _him_. Rain was still splashing all around us, loud and unconditionally wet, but it was no longer the distraction it had been. Water was everywhere and I was no longer cold. I lay there bonelessly, floating in the warm water – no not floating, _held_. He was looking down at me with guarded eyes. His arms supported my weight but I was still drifting this way and that with the movement of the water like one does when bathing a child. And just then, I was content with being a child.

A strong wind scraped the cold across what of me was above water making me shiver. Warm hands cupped water onto my skin and worked it gently through to my scalp.

"Water is water," his voice was softer than I'd ever heard anyone speak to me. Yet it didn't blow away on the wind, the words were to me and only me. No other would hear them. Somehow, that made me listen all the more, "no matter what form it takes. The water that falls becomes the water that rests. And that gives life to this." A flower, a thornless pure white rose, snaked down his neck and wrapped around his upper arm.

"I won't let go. Right now you are safe, without pain. Right now is only now. Later, this resting water will ascend only to fall again and rest. It is continuous. You should never let yourself be caught within circles."

Thought after thought was formed in my mind only to die upon my lips before I could utter a word. My thoughts weren't making sense. There were too many contradictions, too many uncertainties within my head that I could find no stable ground. I was falling, but I couldn't be. He said I was safe, that he wouldn't let me go. But why…

"Hiei!" All the mismatched thoughts in my mind vanished. "There is only now."

---------------------

Kurama's POV

My heart had slowly begun to break.

_Kuronue…_

"There is only now…for we have eternity to remember the past …and what can never be…" I finished with a whisper. I hoped Hiei didn't hear me. He probably did.

_Hiei…_

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A/N:

A question for my audiences, would you prefer me to explain what's going on in each characters head or just give the basics and let you speculate?

The small lake was warmed by one of Kurama's plants (will be mentioned in next chapter – mentioned here so I don't get nagged about it).

Please give me honest reviews. I love feedback from my reviewers that helps me to improve as an author.

The 


	8. Innocent Revelations

THANKS FOR THE FEEDBACK EVERYONE!

Kooriya Yui – no idea on that "kudos" problem, lol. I don't usually capitalize it though.

Kuranga108 – sorry to have lost you on the last chapter, things will be explained.

YamiStar – something really weird is going on with The site was down for a

week and now that I can finally access my account, everything's different and

really, really messed up.

NobodyNow - If you are refering to my lemon in chapter two (A Well Too Deep Ch.8 contains a much better one) of this story, you should be able to view it by cutting and pasting the url posted at the start of that particular chapter. Please let me know if you still can't view it.

Blackfiredragon  
Kodaijin Hiei  
Darksaphire  
Golden  
Nasa Ow/d Maxwell  
Loki-sama  
MikaSamu  
Symbolic  
What2CallMyself  
DarkKittyCat

A/N: I feel like I left many unfinished thoughts in the last chapter so I'll try to play catch-up with this chapter, picking up the pieces I left in chapter 7's wake so to speak.

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Unbalanced Pendulum 

**Chapter 8: Innocent Revelations **

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Kurama's POV

Three days past and the rain finally moved on, still trying to reach us with the last drops of a heavy cloud. Blind fingers snagging at our clothes and hair, guided by the wind, were finally dragged away by their body. And we were left alone, again. It was time to move on to wherever Hiei would lead me. Hopefully, outpacing our chilled atmosphere. That one night weighed heavily on both our minds – I'd like to believe.

---

Could I have imagined anything so perfect as the image of Hiei and I in the stream's runoff pond? Holding him within my arms like a weightless child of ceremony, I waded, fully clothed, into the heated water. Increasing my energy output to raise the friction generated by my Makai Waterfly plants before lowering him into the water. The clear, ribbed stems disappearing under the water's surface, causing the sprite-like leaves to flutter seemingly independent, marionette choreography in which the audience never guesses the presence of the puppeteer. The ribs of the stems chafed against each other to generate an awe-inspiring amount of heat. Hiei floated, a beautiful voodoo doll soaking in magick oil. My wet hair spilling over my shoulders to hang around us and sweep through the water, a shimmering curtain disguising a king's harem.

He was gorgeously lost to the world, and I was going to look after him. My doll.

I must have stood for hours, cleansing him. Stealing away his fears lest they only be chased away, we talked, often without words. I couldn't remember that I was supposed to hate him or that my tenderness was a razor blade cutting too thinly to be seen.

I whispered and listened and calmed…him not me.

Then I took him from the warm sanctuary into our leafy one and held him while he slept through the worst of the lunacy. My excuse was he needed my body heat – very true to be sure. But it comforted me to see his face from so little a distance away.

…Innocence… 

The word materialized in my mind unbidden by me as he lay cuddled to my chest. His eyes were closed and unmoving, too deeply asleep to dream. And I was suddenly scared of him.

…_Innocence…_

It haunted me, cackled at all of my aspirations and schemes, forced my eyelids to their maximum capacity, and left my nerves painfully raw.

…_Innocence…_

A lie! He killed Kuronue! It had to be a lie!

I could no longer bear his touch and laid him on the ground as gently as I could in my haste, cringing away from him. His calm sleep was no longer endearing but mocking, jeering at my stupidity and gullibility. I had to leave the cave, had to get away from him. But pacing outside the shelter solved nothing rather it left me only more anxious. I was panicking I knew. My thoughts were scattered and I couldn't keep still. That one word kept disturbing any amount of peace I might achieve:

…_Innocence…_

Before I knew what I was doing, a literal blade of grass had been neatly stabbed clean through my left hand. I couldn't feel the puncture. It was odd and it ensnared me. The hot crimson wriggled down my palm and wove through my fingers almost playfully. There was something definitive about the sight of my blood flowing out of my veins, staining the lines of my palm. A thin strain of it caught in my lifeline and changed the direction of its flow. This miniscule path of blood existed, stuck in place, while the main stream flowed ultimately to my fingertips and dripped to the earth, exiting my body and leaving my life behind it.

I never had the gift of foresight before that vision. But in the rivulets of blood, all things were made clear. I didn't understand all of the things that I decided in those short moments but there was no doubt of their accuracy. I existed and so I would live through this. What came next…? I knew without knowing, understood without understanding.

…_Innocence… _

One last time the word came to my mind and I was able to push it aside.

I made sure to wash and heal the last traces of my dread in the stream that still held the memory of warmth. The blood was diluted and lost, forgotten, along the water's current. Foresight for the damned saturated in one's own blood. Then I returned to the shelter and pretended to sleep. When Hiei awoke several hours later I was on the last legs of consciousness, a fog blown away one breath at a time. I remember feeling his approach and his tentative touch before I ultimately lost my battle with exhaustion. It was the first time I'd slept since Kuronue's death.

I dreamt of yanking the whiskers off a cat.

---

We haven't spoke since that night, neither of us, returning to our usual silence. Pretending nothing happened, his choice. This was not the time for me to pry into a personal event that, if I assumed correctly, even he didn't understand. I think he was surprised that I wasn't blackmailing him. What had transpired had the potential to become a tremendously dangerous weapon against him.

I shook my head, inwardly, that he should still think so lowly of me. I was guilty of planning to emotionally shatter him (collateral damage only, an unavoidable consequence of my plans but not their purpose) but I wouldn't be so lowly and shrewd as to use something this private against the confused demon. I did have my honor; logic could deduct that. But, as I was learning, Hiei acted upon long ingrained experience and he wasn't about to change his too general views for one person. And he thought he was subtle. It was highly amusing.

He had begun to seek my eye contact with aggressive fervor, challenging not delving as many might mistake it for. Instead of avoiding me he was purposefully getting in my way, gauging my reaction. Not a bad tactic, but I was no fool. I continued to act my part, offering a small, placating smile or humbly (likely seemingly intimidated) acknowledging his gaze with a glance to, then away. Let him think me tamed and unsure.

It was time to leave.

I dismantled my flora creation and recollected what of it I wished to keep. And then we ran.

---

"Hiei stop!" I called out. He paused, turning around to glare at me, arms folded in annoyance. I was not to be so easily shaken. "You mustn't go that way. I know these forests well, this territory should not be bothered."

Hiei sneered, refusing to be deterred. Apparently he was angry with me for bearing witness to his breakdown. I should have known better than to speak of this near place being too dangerous. He was too eager to prove his strength and I had been too caught up in my thoughts to notice the corner we had been steadily approaching. I knew better than to hope he would be easily swayed, but I was still shocked at his snarled, final words.

"You will follow me, coward." He turned and disappeared into the impenetrable territory before I could voice another protest.

My whole body felt weighted down. The black pulse I imagined emanating from the darkening forests was crushing me. I would've thrown my dignity to the wind before entering that place of my own accord because I knew that I would lose it either way. Enough dark tales emerged from these ill-spirited trees, how did he not feel the oppression? He probably did, I thought with a morbid laugh. And maybe he could face down whatever lay inside, but I knew I couldn't. No plant within this beating ring would listen to my comparatively infant voice. Ancient doom was painting me with its tar, yet Hiei was right, I had no choice but to crawl through the muck following his trail until I was utterly suffocated.

---------------------------------------------

Hiei's POV

What the fuck was happening to me? That bastard saw me like…like…well that was the problem. I didn't know what that was. Only one other time in my life had I ever felt so helpless and lost. And then, I lay bundled in wards hundreds if not thousands of feet below the home I knew only in my first days. I'd been trapped within the blanket, unable to move from that spot of my own initiative. It had been raining then and I'd been so cold, soaked through and painfully understanding that I had been abandoned to hopeful death.

That wasn't when my vulnerability began. It took years for me to fully appreciate how meaningful the rain was, how symbolic. Each rain – no light sprinkle but monsoon-like downpours – my reaction worsened, a terrible allergy that would eventually kill me. Though, this was the first time I'd actually gone catatonic. Why didn't my adrenaline keep me aware as it had done in compromising situations before? A demon's body was designed to take everything thrown at it and live – live! Above all else was the body's (if not the mind's) desire to survive. So why didn't it respond?

There were only two answers that I could think of: a) my condition had worsened incredibly and my body could no longer cope with my mental breakdowns, or b) my body didn't register my situation as dangerous. The latter was preposterous, right? I was in the middle of a job and the kitsune was sure a dangerous, untrustworthy entity – my enemy…wasn't he?

It was only afterwards, when I had awoken from my surprisingly restful sleep, did I realize how deeply I had withdrawn.

---

I lay still on the dirt that was the floor of our makeshift shelter, my hazy memories solidifying with each sweep of the loom's shuttle. I remembered cold, wet, outdoors, moving…and then warmth, safety, comfort. There was a river (stream, pond?) and shining silver glass. The kitsune.

My initial reaction was to wriggle in disgust at the thought of his touch, of being that close to…_him_, the crawling feeling under my skin gathering in intensity until my shoulders shook. But, as the tapestry's design emerged thread by thread, I began to connect his touch to the soothing warmth, his voice to the muse of sanity, and his presence to…

And there he was in a condensed sprawl on his side, sleeping on the smoothed logs not three feet away. I couldn't resist my curiosity, anger momentarily shadowed in the outward curve of its wake, and I crept towards him. A bit of mud had splattered his white robes and what had to be a small green chlorophyll smudge tarnished his otherwise pristine wrists. His hair was matted and clumped here and there from being whipped about in the rain, but still hung perfectly straight to pool upon the ground. I didn't see how he could tolerate it. I admit I liked these imperfections, they made the spirit seem real and within (rather than beyond) my grasp.

My wandering hand grazed one of his large vulpine ears making it twitch. It was smoother than fresh velvet like furry lamb's skin. His hair was damp to the touch and the water dimmed its luster. So white it was almost a pale blue normally, now bordering on the lightest of grays – the color of his eyebrows. I was surprised (finally close enough to notice) to see that his eyelashes weren't black but dark gray at the base and lightening to white then thinning to nearly clear. They weren't overwhelmingly long either. Figures, when it's more ethereal to not overemphasize a trait of beauty it wasn't.

I was beginning to appreciate just how physically perfect kitsunes, or at least this one, were.

My fingers traced the line of his cheekbone. I was astonished at how pale he was. I was dark skinned by no means, but I looked charred in comparison. The only traces of color on his body were in his closed eyes. Controlled by an unknown compulsion, I lightly ran my thumbs over both his closed eyelids. I increased the pressure until I could feel the slight bulges of his irises and pupils through the skin. Shaken, I suddenly pulled my thumbs away. My hands were trembling.

I stood up and left. Walked directly out into the rain, tipping my face skyward and letting the cold crash unhindered into me. Nothing. I only felt life.

What had he done to me?

---

"You will follow me, coward," I snarled.

He couldn't possibly expect gratitude or leniency from me? I didn't know what magick he used to fool my mind, but I wasn't going to treat him any differently for it. Besides, I would fear nothing in my way. And this 'territory' was in my way.

I sped forward into the forest, trusting him to follow me not moments after. Within feet I had lost all sense of direction, disoriented in the thick darkness.

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Hey look! It's upcoming action!

Please Review


	9. When the Night is Too Dark for Sleep

Kodaijin Hiei – I'm not quite sure what you are asking about as for future parts. I will tell you that I've changed the genre of this fic because I plan on running it right up to the start of the Yu Yu Hakusho series. 

Insaneningen14 – the story is meant to impact. If it's too much for you please discontinue reading (I'm being serious not offensive). And as for your other questions, please note that I am taking AU liberties with this story – and that the way I write the characters is only my interpretations of them. 

NobodyNow – thanks for the recommendations. I'll check them out if I have the time. I realized that I forgot to recommend any fanfictions to you. If you had the time, it would be easiest if you just looked at my favorites (especially those on my account (namely The Collector by SaintMe and the My Kitsune series by NyxJr) ). 

MikaSamu  
Kooriya Yui  
IneXpressible  
Buenagirl  
What2CallMyself  
Kuranga108  
Yamistar  
Kikvws  
SkSuncloud  
Avari  
kurayami-ni-koorime  
Mz.Bitz  
Multifaceted Tune 

This chapter was beta-read by Kooriya Yui 

------------------------------- 

Unbalanced Pendulum Chapter 9: When the Night is Too Dark for Sleep 

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Kurama's POV 

To have your eyes wrenched from their sockets and be smothered from behind with wide silken ribbons, that's what it felt like. The forest was too thick and no prodding on my part would lessen the pressure. The innate link I shared with my plants was muffled beyond repair, leaving me stranded, cut off from my greatest source of power and my second sight. Utterly disoriented, I could feel the swell of panic rising from my gut and encompassing my whole chest. The fiery hot, itching pain that builds until one is both immobile and unable to be still, as sudden as the darkness after a bolt of lightning. 

Where was I to follow him? My head began to ache – my body was unable to follow Hiei as I had promised. He couldn't be far…would he leave me behind in his angry haste? I spun slowly in place, my pupils searching for the scantest trace of light to grab and gather, looking for some sign of Hiei's passing. I could no longer even find my entrance point, though it was seemingly impossible for me to have traveled more than a few paces. 

"Hiei!" I called out. Anything that could hunt me in this place would do so whether I drew attention to myself or not. "Hiei!" 

Who would've ever thought that I would be dominated by a forest, though it wasn't merely the forest. No one thing dwelled within these trees to cause such perfect impenetration but hundreds of ancient ghouls. Twisted, evil, and deformed fallen spirits crowded and infected these trees. I won't say that they were devoid of all goodness for they have no concept of it and so cannot be without. Their accumulated power was great and I, as far more earthly than they, had no sway in this world. I would be even more susceptible to their gullery because of my potential to become one of them. I wonder if Hiei knew that he had given me no choice but to place all of my trust in his ability to protect me. I wasn't sure whether I liked it or not. 

I turned full circle and saw haunting, milky white eyes staring straight at me not a meter away, lit by an unknown and rabid light. I jumped back, crouching low to the ground and growled. My ears folded back against my scalp in aggressive fear. For all I could see the eyes hovered with no bodily connection, pupil-less and eerily focused on me. There was no barrier between my soul and their scene. I was utterly exposed and shaking, pride forgotten with the plants' voices. Perversions of thought came to me, thoughts of what I could become, and hideous sights of me dragging the weight of my dead body behind the outline of my spirit, trying to escape the fleshy confines. The wisps of soul breaking loose and leaving me a hardening husk now dependent upon the rotting flesh to sustain my spirits existence. 

My eyes were so wide they hurt. I didn't want to become the nightmares I had been terrified with as a kit! I didn't want to rot in my own skin! I would rather die than become a ghoul. I would not be taken alive. 

The thoughts kept coming faster, more frantic the longer I stared into the two blank white eyes. I forgot about survival. I forgot the taste of life. And without any weapon, I was prepared to claw through my throat and drown in my own blood. I closed my eyes with deadly conviction, still seeing the eyes through my lids, further proof of their spirituality and lack of existence in the physical reality. And raised my hand, trembling so violently that it was difficult for my nails to grip the clammy skin under which their targets resided. 

"Kurama!" 

The eyes blinked into the dark and my own opened with a wet gasp. My hand was sticky and wet with what smelled like contaminated blood. I fell to my knees then back on my heels in shock. I brought my other hand to my neck – I could feel viscous droplets of liquid trickling down my shoulder and chest. My neck was spattered with raised, oddly shaped clumps of jelly-filled sacks. Ironically enough, they had protected my neck from being shredded and, more importantly, my jugular from being slashed, while trying to poison my blood. I tore what was left of them off with a desperate urgency. Great gashes were revealed where they had attached themselves and having to scrape them off my skin further mangled my bleeding neck. 

The forest was still completely saturated with an oily darkness but minor visibility was now possible, shapes wove in and out of focus until my eyes had finally adjusted. And my headache vanished at the sound of Hiei's voice. The feeling of being smothered without the widespread senses of my plants remained, though the pressure lessened. 

Hiei was standing near me, his red eyes glinting almost comfortingly in their familiarity and his third eye blazing blue fire, though the outline of his body was aggressive. I let the flesh about my neck continue to bleed, hoping to bleed out the foreign substances that had been bled in. Hiei walked closer to me, unsure of my condition. He took my chin in his right hand and lifted it to better see the state of my neck, jagan blazing, and angrily gasped at the ugly sight. He let go with a hard jerk and grabbed my blood-encrusted hand, gnashing his teeth in frustrated disgust. I was still too dazed to protect myself from what came next. Hiei pulled my arm to the outside by the wrist within his grasp then suddenly switched directions, painfully wrenching my arm and throwing me to the ground with enough strength to stun me. I lay there unmoving, suddenly confused and afraid, knowing that I could not defend myself against him no matter the situation. Very softly, I whimpered. 

"You're worth nothing to me dead," he spat. I cringed but at the last moment I also recognized that his voice's pitch was too high to be cruel. Whatever the motive, he was worried. It might just have been over the possible loss of his bounty but it was better than nothing… Or at least it was all I had to cling to. "Get up!" I complied only as far as my knees. I swiped a hand slowly across the wounds on my neck, stopping the bleeding and scabbing over the worst of the gashes. The insignificant cuts disappeared altogether. 

"What the Hell is this place anyway?" 

It was my turn to scowl at him in anger. Of course now he wished to know what I did of this godforsaken land. "I thought you didn't care." 

I heard him step closer to me. "Tell me." He was threatening me with his proximity. He may not want me to die but the need to understand this foreign and threatening world was overriding any tolerance he might have had. I would be struck again if I pushed him any farther. Resistance would have been stupid and pointless. 

"A gathering of the eternally undead whom can never die." I ignored his scoff, feeling the tale condense from fragments of memory I thought I had lost long ago. "The First was created here when he tried to become a god. A dark alchemical ceremony pieced together from crumbling documents ancient even in comparison to all but the oldest of gods. He half succeeded, his spirit beginning to float free from his avatar. But ultimately the magick required more than he could give and he was abandoned by the powers guiding his transition, left in an in-between stage of complete incompletion." With a sense other than sight, I could see wisps rising from the earth and trees and gathering, at a distance, around my legend. They were coming to listen. Impulsively, I grabbed for Hiei, crushing the edge of his cloak within my nervous fingers. Not yet afraid was he. And I needed that confidence through the only vector I could be assured of, the touch of his presence – no matter how cold – in my blind nightmare. "Gradually, others were attracted to his unconscious blankness and a territory began to form." 

Rough cloth slipped against my shoulder indicating Hiei's now bent position beside me. He cupped his hand underneath one side of my jaw a bit more firmly than was perhaps called for and angled my head to face him, I think. I could only tell from the proximity and angle of his breath upon my face. 

"What can they do to harm us?" His words were deliberate and demanding. 

"You? I don't know. Me?" Unwilling and unable to describe in words, I took his hand in my trembling, bloody one and guided it to my eyes, letting his fingers catch on my eyelids and close them. Then back down to my where the recently spilled blood had begun to harden into brown flakes. "Because I have potential to become one," my voice was high, scared, ashamed, and embarrassed. My priorities were beyond confused. 

"How do we leave?" His voice was still even. 

I didn't answer. The wisps became distinguishable shapes; emanations of the ghouls I knew surrounded me. 

--------------------------- 

Hiei's POV 

I could feel his drying blood catch under my fingernails. He was so scared that he glowed and pulsed frigid white. My jagan squirmed against my skin, stimulated by so much fear. Whatever he had seen in the hour since I had left him was driving him mad. I couldn't understand his sudden irrationality. What dreams were leading him to this desperate and pathetic show of weakness? It was repulsing. 

I asked again, "How do we leave?" 

The Youko was no longer looking at me at all. His eyes were unfocused and glazing over. The annoying trembling had ceased 

"Kurama!" It was the second time I'd ever addressed him by his name. I didn't like having to use it. This job was becoming too strange already. 

His eyes clouded over entirely, but the barest of gold still shone through the smoke. "Keep walking along the given path," it was a monotone, alien voice that spoke to me from his mouth. "I will be awaiting your arrival, oh master of the jagan eye. I will be waiting for you indeed." 

The mist literally lifted from his eyes, rising from the sockets like white smoke. And he was suddenly racked with shallow gasps, the shaking worse than ever. His hands frenziedly grabbed for me. And I stood still disgustedly, taking the brunt of his terror, no knowing what to do but wanting nothing more than to flee from his touch. I wasn't supposed to ever comfort my prey, ever. This was all wrong! If I could just kill him I wouldn't be having this problem, damn it! Fuck that demon Karasu for putting me through this (shit, I already did that, I thought with no little irony). 

I just stood there, watching with a little detachment as this infamous legend shuddered at my hem, trying to regain control of his self enough to stand, or even kneel. My instincts were staging an indecisive civil war with each other, leaving me immobile. Three bloody black tears fell down his cheeks, purging his spirit. And he began to calm. His breathing evened but minor tremors still shook his body. It was an impressive demonstration of will power. 

I don't know why I did it (though I have the suspicion that Logic had lost a crucial battle). But when he began forcing himself to relinquish his holds on my cloak, causing the tremors to temporarily worsen, I grabbed his hands and held them in place. Then I lowered myself to my knees and firmly embraced him. I think that on some level I understood that he needed this contact. Not necessarily with me, but with anything physical and alive. 

"What was that?" I spoke directly into his ear. 

"The First," he said breathlessly unable to speak solidly yet. 

"Should we go?" I was doing my best to keep my voice from sending him into another fit. It wasn't easy. My patience was dying much faster than his tremors. 

He nodded against my shoulder, "We have no choice." 

------------------------------- 

Please Review 

A/N: Hiei can see so well in the dark because he's using his jagan eye.  



	10. And the Screams just before you Wake

A Great Big Thanks to the Support from my REVIEWERS!

I can no longer list out everyone who is reviewing each chapter as that is beginning to take up entire pages! I can't tell you how excited that makes me so don't think that I've forgotten or am not grateful to any just because your username is not included here.

What2CallMyself – "Hiei shouldn't be that disgusted with a sign of fear, after all, didn't he have his own?" What Hiei experienced wasn't exactly fear. But, that aside, Kurama helped him during his time of weakness so seeing Kurama be driven to such a state is even more repulsive than normal because, previously, Hiei had been **inferior** to **him**. Anyone with pride doesn't like seeing someone "greater" than them be reduced to such a "pathetic" and "pitiful" state since it suggests that they are even weaker.

Shinigami Chlyde – What's this? Are you telling me to discontinue my fanfiction in lieu of a personal writing career? I'm flattered - a little surprised honestly but flattered nonetheless.

KB – I'm not sure where you got the impression about Hiei being taller than Youko Kurama, but Hiei is his normal height in this story.

Beta: Kooriya Yui

Unbalanced Pendulum

Chapter 10: And the Screams just before you Wake

Hiei's POV

I kept flicking my eyes from side to side, wary. "The First" may want to deal with me, but he gave no promise as to Kurama's safety. And Kurama wasn't going to die or be captured on my watch, not after so much effort had already been put in to capturing him. That would be such an utter waste of energy, reputation, and (not by far the least important) money.

Kurama had regained his composure – that previous display was just embarrassing. Though because of it, I now knew that Kurama was no longer completely sane. He hadn't been since stepping within this forest. For him to be able to see what I could not even with my jagan meant that the ghouls (or so Kurama had called them) were not merely appearing _to_ him within his mind, but were coalescing _from _his mind. Forced hallucinations, I surmised. And if I was any judge, they hadn't left him alone yet…not by far.

Kurama was nervous and tense, his body taught and stiff. The lithe glide of his movements had been forsaken for a less controlled, halting step. He would often glance suddenly to the side or flinch away from nothing. And every once in a while he would look at me – never mind that he could not actually see me. We stood side by side. If I walked ahead he might lag behind and if I walked behind he could be assaulted before I could have time to react. I was no fool; besides the visions, he could see no more than was necessary to place one foot in front of the other. This wasn't a natural dark. But I could see. And the emotions evident in his face and eyes each glance evolved nearly faster than I could follow. First he was almost grateful, then scared, then angry, then pleading. I didn't know what to do for him…or why I should even (want to) do anything.

I wanted to feel smug and I came close to convincing myself that I was. That I was happy he was approaching madness. It "proved" my previous convictions about his "love" and "trust." However, the ghouls were forcefully ripping his sanity from him at _these very moments_. And there was no pleasure I could honestly attain from this.

No, he wasn't in his right mind. I was watching him break. Then again, I had to wonder with morbid distaste, how sane were any of us demons? With shame I recalled _my_ breakdown only less than a week past. Could my actions have been considered temporary madness? Perhaps… Why, then, was it so difficult for me to relinquish my hatred over the incidents (both mine and his)?

My steadfast, black and white resolve was bleeding. The inkwell had broken and the liquid was seeping into the imperfections of the paper. Things that should not be combined were fusing together. I was bleeding and Kurama was breaking…all right before my helpless eyes. I couldn't do anything. I was too fascinated by the images to stop the show.

The path came to a gradual stop, fading into the dense forest. What little dark gray-green color I had been able to see along the path ceased and was replaced with blacks, browns, and dark, dark grays. It was strange, to see in only duotone.

I stuck out my arm and laid a firm hand upon Kurama's abdomen to assure his stopping. I wasn't positive whether or not he would be too distracted and just continue on into the gloom. He placed a cold hand atop mine, easily covering it completely, and looked my way with something akin to surprised understanding and acceptance. It bothered me that he likely couldn't see more than my outline. I found I didn't mind the touch of his hand. Though I was disturbed by its chill. Our interactions seemed natural, not worth a second thought. And _that_ did deserve a second thought.

The air within the forest was becoming painfully dense. I hadn't consciously registered the changing pressure upon my lungs. I recognized it now through the labored rise and fall of Kurama's stomach beneath my hand and realized that my own chest must be heaving just as heavily. How odd that I could not hear the sound of breath. Even our footsteps had been muffled…a perfect silence. Broken suddenly by harsh rustling. I couldn't discern if it was heard or felt – the scraping of sandpaper against my ears.

I spun around, unconsciously putting Kurama at my back with my hand now protectively upon his side. He had turned his back to me as well. We had automatically covered each other's blindside.

My head twisted and turned from side to side. I couldn't pinpoint the sound. After the long muffled silence the sudden dry noise was painfully disorienting. I was dizzy, soon nauseous. I could taste bile rising in the back of my throat and swallowed hard. Kurama and I fought to stay on our feet, refusing to be driven to our knees in submission. A liquid that could only be blood trickled out of my ears, burning down my jaw and neck to be absorbed in my no-longer-white scarf.

Something blunt hit me across the chest, knocking the wind out of me. I tried to breathe but found myself smothered. My hands shot to my face desperately racing over its surface trying to locate the weapon. But they found nothing. The air itself had become too thick to breathe.

My jagan closed of its own accord, shying away behind its eyelid from the invisible film. Unadjusted, my two natural eyes could see nothing on their own. I must have fallen because I felt the slimy, slippery mulch all along my side. My sight was too raw to be of any use for orienting myself. My hands gripped and released in desperation over and over again. They gained nothing but handfuls of rotting leaves and old plant skeletons. Then they found thin fabric, Kurama's clothing. I clung on with everything I had.

My last thought was incredulous.

'_The trees._' The noise had been made by the trees.

Kurama's POV

"Hiei! Hiei!" I screamed in vain. Even I couldn't hear my words over the amplified rustling of the leaves and branches.

I was crouched on one knee at his side, grasping the arm that clung to me with iron force even in unconsciousness. My hair was being whipped around and tugged at tauntingly by the ghouls surrounding us. They must be the ones who inhabited the trees that marked the boundary to The First's thrown. It stung terribly, my own hair biting into my skin with the speed at which they passed and tearing out when they pulled too hard in malicious fascination.

Laughter. They mocked me, mocked my efforts to fight them off. The energy it drained from me was too great. Agonizing gashes were splitting open in ancient patterns along my skin. My body was trying to release my trapped energy directly through my blood and skin. It had no other way to leave my body!

"You can't kill him, you bastards! The First wants him! Take us to The First now or _he will die_!" I yelled out desperately to the white shadows among the trees. Hoping beyond hope that they would understand…and have the sense to heed.

My spiritual nature, the same thing that made me vulnerable to the ghouls' trickery also gave me strength enough to survive these attacks. I could transcend the physical and survive within the dense atmosphere. Though I refused to relinquish my body and so could only last so long. Hiei could not. Hiei would die. But I needed him if I was to escape this forest. So I would not let him die here. It would be suicide.

"Release him!" I growled with more authority than I felt.

I had to speak to the images within my head. My eyes were hopelessly blinded by my hair and blood and the impossibly dense blackness. There was no point in even keeping them open.

Numbness began creeping up my limbs, slowly robbing me of my body, replacing my overwhelming agony with nothingness. The physical pain of my tortured avatar and the force with which my energy was trying to escape it was tearing my spirit free. Tears fell shamelessly from my tightly shut eyes. I would not be overcome. I would not!

I could hear their laughter all around me: jeering at my feebleness, cheering at my coming defeat, ultimately insane.

"NO!" and then I took the gravest gamble I'd ever taken. I had no option left. "I invoke The First! You have no power over me because I INVOKE THE FIRST!"

And then…I felt nothing. Such a sudden change that I was robbed of any response. I felt absolutely nothing. All around me was swirling white energy, warm and soft. I was comforted. Then I remembered my eyes had been closed, but when I tried to open them I found that I no longer had eyes to open.

"No. No, no, no, no, no… NO!" Of course I only thought this. I had no voice, only thoughts. I didn't know where I was. I was simply a spirit now (that, at least, I knew), but this wasn't the spirits' plane. This was a cage.

The First had to have heard my invocation and come. Was I imprisoned by him now? I felt so helpless.

"Hiei…where are you?" and then… "Hiei…help me, please."

Hiei's POV

I awoke slowly. First to my attention was how light my body felt. Air came easier than it had since first entering the territory. Next was the wet earth beneath me and wedged underneath my fingernails. It was devoid of any leaves, creatures, or grass. And then the light… I never thought I'd ever miss light. But even this dull, gray-orange air was uplifting to my soul. A buzzing sound of electricity combined with cotton rubbing against glass or a similar substance caught my attention. I looked for the source. And when I found it, all previous relief vanished.

Kurama's body lay crumpled upon the ground looking as if he'd traversed through the terrors of Hell. There was no purple from bruising, only red and brown. Dried blood encrusted most of his body and horrific runes decorated his deathly pale skin. Here and there crimson paths still trickled wetly from the massive but exact slices to the sticky earth he laid upon. Above him floated an orb of gray mist crackling with golden energy surrounded by a vibrating wide net of black. Every few minutes a fox shape would momentarily be distinguishable within the swirling orb.

This was the source of the sound and light.

To the left of the cage was a throne of twisted black trees. And upon it was a bulbous, weeping, flesh colored mass that had once been a humanoid body. I could see discolored streams oozing off the sides of the throne's seat. I was grateful that the air was apparently too thick for smell. Rising from it was a transparent gray spirit's torso and head weaving unstably from side to side.

The First.

I tried to rise. My arms were unsteady underneath me and my legs were not even yet an option. Overcome by wave after wave of motion-induced dizziness, I froze in position. I was trembling upon my forearms with my legs folded limply underneath me. I gritted my teeth, snarling and growling in angry frustration and pain. Each wave dragged acidic bile up into my mouth. I coughed and spit it out as best I could, while still trying to breathe through wide-mouthed gasps.

Orientation and stability returned within a few long moments. I sat back on my knees and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand in disgust. I waited for my breathing to calm before trying to cautiously stand again. Swaying unsteadily at first, I stumbled once before regaining my balance and straightening fully and glaring at the cause of all this misery. Perfectly ready to destroy him with the most horrific means I could devise. …after he returned Kurama to his physical state and to me.

It appeared as if The First was perpetually sad. His face was elongated and crooked. The lips, eyes, and eyebrows pulled down at the outside corners because of it. He had a gaping black mouth with thick, protruding lips surrounding it. No tongue could be seen, only blackness. I was captivated by its absolute lack of light and did not right away notice that he was speaking. A slow voice like gurgling tar carried upon the wind. Just from listening, I felt as if I were drowning.

"Hiei of the jagan eye. You come bearing gifts. Wise to do. Wise to do."

"What gifts?" My voice was tense and my throat tight.

"Why, the eye. And the pretty one. So much spirit. So much body."

"What?" He was enviously gazing upon Kurama's caged spirit and abused body. A specific low lilt to his voice triggered the rise of revolted anger within me. He was sick, the source of the madness that had ensnared all of the creatures of this territory.

"Wise to do. Leave the eye and the pretty one. Then go free."

I stared. I could not accept, but could I afford to refuse? He would only propose the offer if he needed the jagan from my living flesh. Or if he feared me…and the jagan…alive…together… But I had no idea how to put this to use or to test. I could try nothing while Kurama was rendered so vulnerable. Damn it. Why couldn't I just kill Kurama and be done with it?

"No way in Hell!"

His ghostly half recoiled as if struck by a strong wind. Then he thrust forward and screamed with a voice now of boiling, spitting, and popping tar. It made me feel as if I were boiling alive.

"You are not in Hell! This is my world! I am no Devil! I am God! You cannot defy! Give them to me!"

Oh thank goodness that's done.


	11. to Discover it was all a Dream

Thanks to my wonderful, as always, reviewers! (Don't feel unloved if you reviewed and are not included below; I just don't have room to reply to everyone.)

Anishu – Thanks for the lengthy review and I'm overjoyed that you love this fic so much.

Yes I do value honest reviews so anything you can find to criticize, please do. :)

Kuranga108 – Kurama's invoking of The First was a desperate last minute resort to save

Hiei's (and his) life.

Bluespark – lol, no offense taken. In a sense, The First is a senile old man – a very

twisted, greedy, bitter, evil, rotten, senile old man. ;)

Ko-krama – it's great to know that I'm really getting an emotional response from readers.

**Unbalanced Pendulum**

**Chapter 11: …to discover it was all a dream**

Hiei's POV

The First's ghostly half recoiled as if struck by a strong wind. Then he thrust forward and screamed with a voice now of boiling, spitting, and popping tar that made me feel as if I were boiling alive from the inside out.

"You are not in Hell! This is my world! I am no Devil! I am God! You cannot defy! Give them to me!"

_I will never…_ The words never became more than thoughts. Shock held my body still as new ice. What the Hell had just happened? Before me was no longer The First's decaying body but rather an unnatural, fiery-orange desert stretching in all directions, devoid of all life except myself and the gnats swarming ten yards to my left. Burnt orange sand and the sky only shades lighter. The transition was so sudden that I could never have beheld it, faster than the illumination of a room through electric light. And it was sharp and crisp like one's reaction to touching an object of overwhelming heat.

Automatically I reached up to uncover my third eye only to find it unbound and non-existent. The absence of my eye unnerved me terribly. Was there any reality to this world before me? Lost, without my third eye I could not know.

I stooped down on one knee and ran my fingers through the orange sand like a Zen rake. It was fine, clean, almost weightless yet heavier and more substantial than ash, and it did nothing to impede my hand's circular progress. If this were truly made of crushed rock then its age was immeasurable. Here but minutes, my throat was already running dry. My breathing was normal, my mouth was moist, but my throat was parched. Cracks were forming along my inner skin and out of them flowed my voice and my sound. I felt it begin to drip away. I was coughing. Each time the cracks widened. Blood was rising, it pooled on my tongue and I swallowed.

One leg lifted one foot free of the Hellishly tinted sand and took a step, step after pointless step towards a barely distinguishable horizon millennia away. My only certainty was that it was futile to remain where I was. For what purpose would I be remaining, or from what purpose was I hiding? At every step I would sink a little lower below the sand. It would collapse about me like some horrible, intelligent beast that aimed to eat me alive. Surface tension would save me…if I had possession of my speed, but I was so tired…without reason. I was waist deep in the startling orange sand, soul deep in the dizzying orange sky hazy above my head. If there was a sun, I could not see it. I was face down in the sand, incredibly cool against my skin, soothing.

No trees.

Nothing alive.

Just sand.

Just me.

Hiei… 

I didn't respond. Soft, windblown, insubstantial – I believed it to be a fancy of my affected mind. The sand in my face was beginning to suffocate me. I had to turn my face to the side for air; then I saw him. I mouthed his name for my voice was no longer mine. _Where am I?_ I asked him silently.

_Hiei…_

He called again with such gentle concern. His white hand reached out and brushed my cheek. I felt I was being caressed by the fog of frozen lands. Comforting, his alien touch, like being wrapped in thin silk, while resting my forehead against a cold pane of glass. I strained to turn into his retreating hand, wanting more of the comfort it could offer. He was as insubstantial as his voice. I could nearly see through his skin to the bone, through the bone to the sand. But he was here nonetheless. _Kurama…_

I didn't take the moment to ponder why I was so relieved.

His fingers trailed upwards to where my memory had begun to falter. And I screamed because of it. He was massaging the skin under which my jagan should lay and it felt so wrong. Dead skin and dead power were coming alive. The touch was coming from far away and penetrating something of me that was far from my current body. I shouldn't have been able to feel those fingers – his hand and my fading sight. These things had been killed in this world. I was screaming, shredding what was left of my throat for a brief, piercing moment of sound before silence again became my partner in pain. Blood was flying from my mouth and my entire body had gone rigid at the contact. It hurt equal to that of the eye's implantation. Sand flew into my mouth with every inhale, choking me and stinging my insides. It coated my throat and plastered over the cracks in burning fragments.

Hiei, open your eyes! 

What would it matter? My eyes were open and all I could see was bright, electric light. All I saw was my pain. I was pleading with him to stop every way I was able without being able to move, speak, or see. But he would not stop. With his free hand he lifted me out of the sand and spread me across his lap. I vaguely recognized his efforts to ease the pain with his chill. One of his hands was over my forehead, one was supporting behind my neck. Again his cried,

Hiei, please open your eyes! 

It was then that I noticed his agony, and mine began to wane. His flesh was trembling with exhaustion against me and, though I could not feel them, I could see beads of sweat coalescing on his skin. I opened my eyes.

"Brat!" The First was shrieking at the caged orb, ignoring me. Kurama's body lay limp, desecrated, and lifeless as before. But his spirit trapped within the orb was very much alive – he was fighting back. The black web was fraying and dark threads were snapping free of the net. Yet I could tell that Kurama was tiring. The golden energy was crackling in less and less grandiose displays of defiance and had been since I'd woken. The ferocity of his struggle had solely been to reach me and now he was spent (a conclusion that I had difficulty accepting). Then, slowly, I began to understand. He was relying on me. He knew that between the two of us only I could get us out of this territory and so he was willing to exhaust and possibly even kill himself to help me.

The black web was reforming – strengthening – and the gold was sputtering, soon to die. Ghouls were beginning to gather, called by The First to contain the fox. My moment was slipping. Then all of these things – everything – suddenly made sense. I realized how simple the situation truly was. And although I didn't understand why this would work, I knew that I only had to destroy The First's body.

I rose to my feet with none of the dramatics as befits a hero, drew my sword, summoned my mortal flame, and charged the rotten corpse that was the true manifestation of The First – utterly pitiful but deserving of no one's pity. I ignored the ghouls who tore at my clothes and hair, following orders and their own eerie curiosity and playfulness rather than responding because of any fealties. I pierced the mass of liquefying flesh, setting it immediately afire, and watched as the body boiled and rose in putrid steam, or turned to charred ash and was taken by the sudden wind.

There was no sound as The First died, no howl of pain, anger, or misery. There was only the spitting of the fire and the soft huffing of moving ghouls similar to velvety silk batting against itself in a steady wind. The First was finally able to be rid of his flesh and die appropriately. He ignored me as he rose from the earth. There would always be things he would want to do, destroy, and possess. But I recognized that these desires only manifested because he was cursed with the time to accomplish them. Now that he was truly dying, he was sad that he hadn't been able to see all he wanted come to pass and he looked upon death ruefully as one always does when they realize it never arrives at an appropriate time.

The First watched as all those that had come to him slowly dispersed now that his avarice was no longer holding them to him. They glided about the worlds and some eventually released themselves to death, while others chose to cling to what little earthly pleasures they could grasp. And while he was rising from his abominated flesh and seeing all of this, The First remembered his real name. It was a name he had not heard for thousands of years, Tiras. He was now again Tiras, his father and mother's child. And with his recovered name he passed, completely, into the world of the dead.

The unnatural darkness of the forest lifted and moonlight actually penetrated the dense canopy in thin silver beams. Not all of the life here was dead and dying. The colors green and blue and the sounds of breath were beginning to return.

Kurama and I were left alone. With the death of The First, the ghouls had lost their interest in containing us. They had gone and the orb had vanished, relocating Kurama's spirit back within his body. I knelt at his side. He was battered and unconscious, deep within a healing sleep. Close inspection made it obvious that most of his injuries had occurred from the inside out. The skin at the edges of the patterned cuts and wounds were reaching up and out. Why had he done so much for me? _Was_ it merely because he needed me to survive this territory? I was beginning to doubt my hatred – no, my apathy. It had ceased to be hatred long ago.

Moving on without him able to travel was counter-productive. We needed food and water both to drink and to cleanse out wounds.

It seemed I had no choice but to care for him.


	12. Simple Darkness

Thanks to all who reviewed! My notes below are short since it's been so long that most of them were irrelevant by now.

Kuranga108 – I felt that The First deserved more explanation as to his character since he was the original inhabitant/creator of the territory.

---------------------------------

Unbalanced Pendulum 

**Chapter 12: Turn to Darkness**

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Kurama's POV

A hush of calm met my ears when I stirred from unconsciousness. I chose to lay motionless with my eyes closed and retain the feeling of stillness. I knew that when I moved, the calm would be disturbed and I would once again have to feel my limbs and face my injuries and hurts. I heard a rustle somewhere. I cared not to pinpoint anything about it and let it be but a motion whose vibration had entered my ear canal and struck the sensitive nerves of my eardrum. Then a hand graced my forehead and stroked slowly down my hair. I supposed it was tender and began to pay it more mind. The hand was small and the fingers calloused. Their movements were rhythmic and soothing. And I lay there, not thinking or wondering or knowing anything.

The hand shifted to wrap behind my neck and shoulders and pure strength lifted me to rest against a small shoulder. I let my head roll with the motion. Breath was against my face then gone. Another hand held my lower jaw and further spread my lips that had separated when my head tilted back. They were strong hands and the fingers had short nails. Damp lips touched mine. A tongue worked my mouth open and a slow trickle of cold water flowed into my mouth. I felt a droplet gather and drip out the corner of my mouth, down my chin. The lips and tongue departed and the small fingers closed my mouth and wiped away the lost droplet then began stroking my throat to initiate a swallow. I let it happen, like a limp and lifeless white doll.

The lips came again and I was made to drink again. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

The arm around my shoulders lowered me softly to the earth and laid me flat. The arm began to pull away, but I liked it there. I stirred. My breathing was changed with a deep inhale. The arm was gone. I fell back into darkness.

-

I stirred again – consciousness for a millisecond. I opened my eyes this time. I blinked once and saw worn black cloth at my eye level, upon the ground. I think I moved my arm towards the cloth. Maybe I just stretched out my fingers. They closed on nothing. I fell back into darkness.

-

The alluring scents of sweat and smoldering wood wafted lazily into my nose. They tickled my senses and I scrunched my nose and squinted a little, reflex. I remembered a word, "fire." A fire was burning around me, always burning. It was protecting me, caring for me. I curled about myself, sort of, small and brief movements only. Moving – still unattainable, why?

The fire was closer now, fiercer. I wanted it. So close…I fell back into darkness

-

The calm was gone. I was awake, lying on my back straight and kept. My eyes blinked. My hands twitched. I made to push myself up onto my elbows, but they caved under the weight and I fell with a dry sound of surprise, alarm, and dismay. I would hardly call it a voice, but I had been heard, or seen; it didn't matter which. The fire approached, I saw black cloth, and I felt the small hands reach out to me. My eyelids were heavy again, but I didn't want sleep anymore. I wanted the embers that surrounded me, the scent heavy with wood smoke and ash.

The strong arms were again supporting me against a slim and well-muscled shoulder. I leaned into the black clothed body and the arm that held me close. I wanted to steal the strength, the warmth, and the energy there. I needed it and I wanted it. My arm hung limp, but with the fingers I grasped the rough black fabric and suddenly my fire – my protector and caretaker – was Hiei. I looked up into his face. He was confused, I think…perhaps. His red eyes wavered between me and away. They were light in shade, lighter than the demon red I had known before and in them I saw the sunlight for the first time since I had awoken. The light in there drew me in and for a moment I knew that I could never betray this man. And then reality woke within my heart. I could have cried.

I lowered my gaze and tried to forget in the darkness of his cloak. I pretended that its darkness was the calm that I wished I could reclaim as I had those many times before.

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Hiei's POV

Impatience is what I felt at first. Kurama's recovery was taking too long. I wanted to be out of there, to be rid of him and the contradictions that he was and the conflictions he was instilling in me. One of his seeds of doubt had been planted in my heart and I was helpless against its foreign power. I wanted this mission over. I wasn't thinking of what would happen to this angel of white, steely beauty under Karasu's hands. I never thought of the consequences of my actions. That was how I survived.

So white, so deceptively pure and wonderful. He was a lie, that's what I told myself as the stems of his seed grew throughout my veins and wrapped around my brain. I was at war and I couldn't see my enemy, there were too many mirrors on the battlefield. None of that mattered right now; I was doing what I had to to keep him alive. He was healing, finally, gradually.

I was not at his side when he finally woke. I was pacing, and intimidating the encroaching beasts not 10 feet away when I heard his gasp and saw him rise and fall. Propping him up against my chest and shoulder as I had become accustomed to doing, I first saw him look up at me. I don't know what he saw in my face, but in his I saw depth and a flickering softness that was soon replaced by inexplicable emotional pain. Then he looked away. The weak grasp he had on the hem of my cloak tightened and I felt him burrow into my chest. He was suffering and it was making me hurt too. I'd never felt this empathetic emotional mimicry before and it made me uncomfortable. Yet I couldn't convince myself to abandon him and do as I wanted so much to do, run away. I held him instead, and, nervously, my hand crept up to cup the back of his head.

As they had done before in the cave of branches and flowers, my fingers reached out, almost of their own accord, to grace his ears at their base, tracing lightly along the skin that was the edge between hair and fur. His breathing hitched and his grip flinched even tighter for a moment. I repeated the stroke, slow. Kurama finally tilted his head upward at an angle to look at me out of the corner of his astonished, half-lidded golden eyes. I again repeated the action, firm and slow, now that I could see his face. His eyelids nearly closed and his mouth opened just wide enough to permit the passage of a shuddering, quiet sigh. It was mesmerizing and I couldn't stop. I kept wanting to see him look like that. When I halted my hand his eyes were hard, suspicious, and nervous. He tried to pull away but had not the strength and I was too fascinated to let him go.

I whispered for him to relax and calm. Then I resumed running my hand through his hair. It was incredibly thin and light to the touch that I doubted whether he had ever had to brush it. I held him close to me and caressed his head, letting my fingertips occasionally wander along his ears and across his neck. I could feel his reactions against where his body touched mine – addicting. He had settled into the crook created by my arm, shoulder, and chest. The tension that had come so suddenly was fading with each breath he took. And, when he was floating along the border between waking and sleeping, I swore I heard him purr.

I didn't notice the smile that shadowed my own lips.

-----------------------------------

Kurama's POV

I was helpless in his embrace. He wouldn't let me go and I no longer wanted to be released. I'd been granted the Hell fire that I had craved and now its seductively soothing embers were consuming me with a piercing peace that I would have thought impossible to feel and survive had it been described to me before this moment. Beyond bittersweet, beyond irony, beyond pain – not quite love…I hoped. I had been prepared to fall into my own illusion and vengeful lie…. I just hadn't been prepared for it to hurt this much. I refused to fall yet I was screaming my defiance from within the void. I could have cried.

_Inari help us now._

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	13. Don't Blink

Shihiko – I'm always so glad to hear it when I'm able to attract readers who aren't

usually fans of the pairing, topic, genre, or style that I'm writing.

Tbiris – Feel free to ask me specific questions regarding what confuses you. I'd be happy

to explain things to you.

Mistress of the Sand – Thank you and no, I'm not nearly done with this fic yet, trust me.

---------------------------------

Unbalanced Pendulum 

**Chapter 13: Don't Blink**

---------------------------------

Kurama's POV

I had been in a near coma for four days. I slept undisturbed for another day after that as well since Hiei would not release me and I had no honest reason to refuse his…affection. In his arms I rested for several hours before again succumbing to my body's desire for sleep. I could see him, right now, pacing below me. His left hand was brushing against the scabbard hidden beneath his cloak. His right arm swung gently forward and back with each step, the fingers were slightly curled without any muscle tension holding them fisted or straight. The line of his shoulders was upright and rigid. That and the very minute lines at the outside corners of his eyes were sure indicators of his frustration and irritation. I too was upset at my slow recovery. I had been forced to drain my body of its physical energy nearly to death during my struggle to reach Hiei through the spiritual field. Had I drawn from my spirit my recovery would have been much quicker, but I could have also been utterly destroyed beyond anything death could ever inflict upon me. There was also a skittish edge to Hiei's attitude that alluded to a deeper reason for his anger. Two days ago I had been wrapped in his arms and steeped in his presence. My weak mind had been overwhelmed. Now I was thirty feet above him in the arms of the recovering demon forest. Branches and leaves the size of my chest hid me from view. I was able to be more detached up here for I needed this space after that night. My spirit was feeding and through it, my body was being restored. Each breath filled my limbs with powerful energy that sparked and crawled within and along my skin. The energy was flowing in a continuous circuit into me from the trees, into the trees from me, in and out, out and in. I was far enough away to analyze him and forget how attached I was becoming to this grown-up child.

Neither because I was tired (though I was) or relaxed, I sighed and shifted my back against the rough bark of the tree trunk. Hiei was approaching. The rustling leaves were telling me so. No, trees don't use words or possess anything near intelligence. They are bellow pets, but I still cared for them and so I learned to notice how they cared for me. If flora were considered to have emotions or language, they would be the changes in their state of being. It is a simple shift between energetic, antagonistic, and apathetic. My spirit appeals to plants because it can sustain them and so they lean towards me as they do the sun. They 'like' me. Plants generally grow away from the dark and cold. They don't 'like' the dark. Normal animals don't even register on plant radar and so they don't 'care.' I had, however, noticed that prolonged exposure to myself and other strongly enchanted creatures does engender in plants a blooming affection for me. With this also comes a minuscule increase in their intelligence. This was the case with this forest. I'd discovered one patch of newly sprouted flowers that actually bobbed of their own accord when stroked like how a cat will curve into a caress. A few branches of the tree I was in at that moment were lightly brushing against me more than the wind should have caused in order to get my attention. I returned the gesture, petting the leaves with the backs of my fingers so as not to tear them then closed my eyes to hold my composure as long is it would last. Hiei appeared on a neighboring branch moments later.

He sat uncomfortably for a long moment, looking hard at me. My eyes were closed and my face tilted upwards so I only gave a shallow nod to acknowledge his arrival, hoping he took it as an indication of my exhaustion. He didn't.

"What did The First do to me? What happened to you? And why could I kill him?" he growled out. It was clear he wanted answers now.

I opened my eyes slowly, waiting for my vision to focus, then rolled my head to face him at an odd sideways angle. I found that in one glance I had fallen in love with the line of his set and angry jaw and I longed to brush my fingers against the clear skin covering it. Lids at not quite full mast and my jaw slack causing my lips to part, I was aware of the picture I was presenting to him. It wasn't seduction, but it was attraction. I could tell he liked my confident softness, the way I would let my guard down not because of trust but because of self-assurance. Oh he liked it, but he rebelled against his attraction. All this I could read in the muscles of his perfectly square jaw. I spoke in a voice that was weary but not of anything, just weary in and of itself.

"The First spun his illusions about your mind. It is something all spirits can do if they so wish to learn. I was stolen from this body and imprisoned in a half world, half in this plane and half just drifting. Uh, another dimension that overlaps with this one is what you might call it. These are nothing more than the bending of reality or the manifestation of one's imagination."

"Can you do that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Of course. A spirit in its corporeal form is nothing more than the manifestation of a being of one reality in that of another. We have to either create or borrow our physical avatars. Existing as a spirit in a physical world is too taxing on both us and the structure of that world."

"Hn, you mean possess and steal," he was trying to get a rise out of me to prove that I wasn't as tired as I seemed. I merely shrugged in response.

"Yes, it can be called that, though that hardly sounds as pretty." I smirked and turned more fully to face him so that I was looking at him less out of the corner of my eyes. I was frustrating him with my offhand words. Had I not been trying to deceive Hiei as to the innocence of my actions, I would have teased him about his impatience. As it was he could not know that I read him as well as I did. After a few moments' pause he attempted to break the silence. I held out a hand to stop him. "Why were you able to defeat him? The same reason why The First feared you to begin with, your eye." I further extended my hand to barely grace the headband under which his jagan lay, lingering for a moment before calmly pulling back. I pretended not to notice the brief lowering of his lids that paralleled my touch.

"Explain," his voice was rougher and breathier than before. The commanding sound was failing him. I wondered curiously whether or not he was even able to say more. As it was, what he asked me to explain was something he should have known without question: the jagan was an all seeing eye. In fact, that was nearly all I knew about it. He was flustered. I was finally beginning to unbalance him.

-

Hiei's POV

I had had to fight with all my will to prevent my jagan eye from opening of its own accord. And now that I was refusing to let it open, it was straining to reach the retreating fingers by urging my body closer to Kurama. It had been many years since the eye rebelled and I was unprepared for the assault. The eye was flooding my body with the urge to be touched and my mind with a sense of terrible loneliness. I forced out "Explain" in a voice that sounded painfully raw to my ears. It was stupid, but if the longwinded fox could be distracted by it then it was worth it. I didn't even hear his words. I just knew he was talking.

I panicked when I felt bark sliding against me. I was scooting farther along my branch and closer to the fox. The smaller branches in between our two larger ones were woven together like the threads of bed sheets. They easily supported my weight as my body inched across them. Kurama stopped talking and I could now only hear how hard I was breathing. My left hand brushed up against the cloth of his loose pants then, right after, his thigh through the thin material. There was no doubt to his strength. The flesh didn't give way to my fingers at all. But that wasn't enough, I needed to touch and feel more of him. My knees bumped up against his legs as I moved closer and closer. His clothing was incredibly light to the touch. I imagined it could float away and never touch ground again.

My skin crawled; it felt too tight. Waves of invisible shudders traveled out of my gut and down and up my extremities. I couldn't grip him, but I wanted to do just that and pull myself right into his body because I couldn't get close enough from out here. It was maddening and frustrating. My jagan wouldn't stop pulsing because, though any god will know I tried and tried, I couldn't do what it wanted of me. I couldn't take it and finally just gave in, burying my head in his chest concentrating on maintaining any sort of in and out airflow. Then the fire stopped and a cool breath blew against my face.

Kurama was cradling the back of my head with one hand, running his fingers through my hair, and was covering my jagan with his other. I whimpered softly without looking up. The hand on my forehead pushed lightly, tipping my face upwards to which I gave no resistance.

"Truly a wonder…" he whispered. Then he kissed me.

-

Kurama's POV

I watched in shock and curiosity as Hiei's aura became erratic and his skin clammed with sweat. Moving closer with no regard for his surroundings, I strengthened the branches between us out of caution. They grew in girth thus pressing tightly against each other. His fingers clambered desperately over my body. His eyes were distracted, unfocused, and permanently cast down. My stomach clenched and I gave him what he wanted, what he needed.

I placed a full hand upon the banded eye assuring it of my presence and held his head to me. So many intricacies in one small person, he was a fragile puzzle whose edges didn't always match up. I kissed him lightly with closed lips. Passion was to be calmed not stirred. I was not so the lecher as to take advantage of his vulnerability for if I had wanted, he would have been mine right then. But mine in body only, I needed his heart and mind. When I pulled away he was staring with wide, young eyes up into my face. One of his hands fisted in my tunic, while the other crept tentatively up to touch my lips like a child stroking a museum artifact that fascinates their naive imagination. I remained perfectly still, dragging out the moment and letting him indulge his wonderment.

Then his two eyes hardened with suspicion and anxiety. Stepping away from me, he turned in my direction one last time and, without warning, slashed me across the face. "Don't ever touch me again," he spat. A smirk at my shock, anger, and fear then I was alone in my tree again. Motionless, I let the blood trickle down my right cheek from the four long, shallow cuts inflicted by his nails.

Truly an all seeing eye to see inside the bearer's heart and desires. This was all indirectly my fault. I had reawakened the stronger powers of the eye when I opened it to break The First's illusion. My power had imprinted upon the eye. I hadn't meant to do so this time, but the jagan reacted to my touch on impulse. It felt that Hiei wanted me, though he didn't even know it, and exploited those desires. I felt guilty but I was also victorious.

I smiled.


	14. Numb

A/N: I know this is seen in manga and anime often enough, but how many men in real life do you ever see slap each other? Very few, that's why I really don't like using the weak bitch slap and opted to use "slash" in chapter 13. It just seemed more realistic and more appropriate for two very deadly demons.

WARNING: This chapter contains graphic material not suited for young'ins. I'm talking about homosexual, NC-17 content of the brutal kind. THIS IS NOT A FLUFF CHAPTER. Readers of will be "spared" the full version, but it's still most definitely not a child's book. The complete chapter can be found at my accounts on or Pendulum 

**Chapter 14: Numb**

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Watching me

Wanting me

I can feel you pull me down

Saving me

Raping me

Watching me

Lyrics from "Haunted" by Evanescence

--

Kurama's POV

Nearly four hours had passed by the time I descended from my tree. The sun had begun its slow descent an hour ago. Now only a few stubborn streaks of dark pink and purple remained reaching out from the horizon. The brilliant evening moon was traipsing its shallow trail along the horizon not 30 degrees above it at its highest. It did resemble that of the human world, I supposed. Shades of blue-ish white light shone about it, covering the world beneath it in an eerie blue blanket similar in effect to night vision. Its light was about a fourth of that of the daytime sun. I brushed my bangs back from my eyes thinking that, at this latitude, it would only be visible for another couple of hours before quickly tucking itself safely back, under the horizon and away from our prying eyes. Then the numerous stars of the outer worlds would be the only natural light left to us. I had wanted to give Hiei his space. He had vanished right before my eyes after attacking me and I had yet to see him since. The events of this evening had shaken us both, though there was no doubt as to whom had been most effected. I almost felt sorry for him. Kuronue's still body suddenly flashed before my mind's eye. Almost.

I stepped, toe first, onto the ground, willing the twigs beneath me to hold their form under my weight and the leaves to crumble into silent dust. I gazed around before lowering myself completely. The air smelled faintly of smoke. Following my nose lead me to a massive dead tree trunk whose circumference neared one hundred feet. There was not another tree within twenty feet of it, forming a clearing of sorts with this at its center. I walked around its base until I reached the raw hole that served as the door into the hollow cave inside. I paused at this point. The wood was pale and flaked off like strips of fused ash when touched. Hiei was inside maintaining a small, woodless fire with careless flicks of his power, his thoughts apparently being elsewhere. I refused to move first or make any sound to indicate my wish for him to invite me inside or even acknowledge my presence. From my half exposed position, I could only partially see him deep within the wooden cavern. I saw him look up at me with no bewilderment in his eyes. They were blank. Now I was nervous.

I stepped forward into the tree, watching him watch him. He gave no indication that I could not enter, but continued to stare too calmly at my body. His eyes obviously raked across my figure then landed on my eyes. I quickly looked down at the fire and then back up to his face. He again gave no sign that I could not, so I slowly sat across from him, the fire between us. I wasn't cold but the heat warmed my joints and muscles slightly sore from remaining still for so many hours. Then he spoke to me in such a steady voice that I did not at first recognize his words.

"Are you ready Kurama?" he said. I stared at him hard, confused, angry, and suddenly fearful. "Then run," he picked up his katana from where it had been resting at his left side and partially unsheathed it, blade facing me, dangerously close to my face. "I catch you, I kill you."

I jumped back, landing in a low crouch, just in time to avoid being sliced in half as he completely unsheathed his sword in an almost too-fast-to-be-seen cut. I didn't think, just ran. I was too confused to be scared but too scared to think. Speed was entirely on his side and my only hope of survival was cleverness. I threw everything I could in my wake to halt his progress, silently screaming to all of the plants of the forest to stop him. But I was too unfocused to manage anything incredibly effective and Hiei was burning a raw black path through the forest. There was also that nagging voice in the back of my mind chanting my promise in my ears like a sick mantra: I could not harm him and I could not abandon him. What the hell was he thinking? The most I could do was hinder his progress, which I was doing badly.

None of the fire was reaching me, dying suddenly as an attack dog that has reached the end of its chain. I also noticed that never was Hiei exerting his full speed. Quickness was not something I lacked, but mine paled ridiculously in comparison to his true speed – something that I had likely not yet seen. He was playing with me, waiting for me to tire before…before what? Lording over me with his power and demonstrating my helplessness, perhaps he wanted to make sure I knew where I stood in relation to him. Was this a game? It was! He was playing cat and mouse with _me_. The thought made me angry, a burning anger that caught in my throat and tingled violently in my fingertips.

Jumping up and using the branch I'd grabbed to swing myself high into a sturdy tree, I turned to glare at the young demon his wave of fire before him. He didn't hesitate to extract his punishment on my rebellion against his rules. Staring straight at me, he sent a plume of fire to engulf each of the surrounding trees. Smoke was making my eyes water painfully and my ears were laid flat back against my head to try and muffle the horrifying sounds of popping and crackling wood all around me. Sweat beaded on my skin. Each plant disappearing from my mind was louder than any scream.

I dropped to the charred ground at Hiei's feet, near to weeping in frustration and dread. "Stop it," I begged. "Please…stop it!" I spat my words into the ground, unable to face him. Then, for the second time that day, he struck me. The fire stopped immediately. He grabbed my hair and wrenched my head back so hard I gasped audibly. His katana was at my throat, steady and unmoving as he studied my features. "So…how does this game end?" I asked. My mouth was dry and my voice breathless. I was breathing hard.

Hiei laughed bitterly, "This _game_ will never end." He dropped his sword. I felt it bite shallowly into my thighs before clattering mutedly to the ground…

-

Hiei's POV

"This _game_ will never end." _No, life never ever stops toying with anyone, but I refuse to be played with by anything else!_

I sharply yanked his head even farther back, forcing him to open his mouth, and kissed him hard. My tongue forced into his mouth with vicious pleasure. I crushed and bruised his lips, once biting hard enough to draw blood. I pulled back slightly and sucked at his damaged lip to convince the blood to flow then lapped hungrily at the red stream it produced. Taking his blood into my body, claiming what was mine, what should be mine, and conquering what I would over come.

_You think you will change me! You think you can control me - hah, no one will ever. For that I will destroy you._

-

Kurama's POV

…and I let him take me with a brutal passion. I wilted beneath his fury and his fire, willing him to do everything to me. Bruises appeared upon my skin beneath his fingers and my blood flowed in wisps over us both, into him. I wanted everything he could do to me. _Hurt me, punish me, take me, want me, break me. Give me everything I deserve. All the wickedness I have done, all of the people I have betrayed…will betray…. Do your worst Hiei. You are my redemption, my atonement. Because, in the end, it won't matter, I thought hysterically. In the end I will break your fragile, newborn heart and everything you do to me now will only be a drop of water in the ocean that is my purgatory. _

-

Hiei's POV

Shreds of white fabric, tufts of nearly transparent hair, and flecks of red blood were scattered all around both of us. I nearly tore the tunic off him to expose his beautiful neck and shoulder. Taking his flesh full into my mouth, I bit down on his lower neck and ground my teeth into his skin and muscle. Hot blood was flowing into my mouth, over my lips, and down my chin. I made sure to leave a permanent mark worthy of my power, something he would not forget. I was about to pull away, an artist must always critique their own work, when lean arms surrounded me and held me in place with remarkable strength. Kurama was pressing me close, wanting more of my ferocity. His breathing was ragged and his eyelids fluttering between three-quarters and closed. _You desire this pain_, I thought. _You enjoy being destroyed_. This was going to be fun.

-

Kurama's POV

Hiei pulled abruptly away from me. I collapsed onto my hands without the added support. With his foot, Hiei pushed me over fully onto my side and nudged me onto my back none too gently. I was quivering, in no small amount of pain, and fully at his mercy.

He placed one arm on either side of me like a well-muscled sphinx. "To whom do you bow?" he cooed menacingly. I mouthed my answer but my throat did not utter a sound. "Who?"

"Y…you," I whispered.

"Who?"

"Hiei…my master…my master. You control me…have all of me…only you!" I yelled a stream of words, everything that came to my mind. "Take me…oh gods…Hiei, my master…only…never before…always!" I no longer knew what I said. His hands were brutal. My blood was boiling under his hot and cruel caresses. Was I breathing?

He entered me roughly, but soon he was hitting the knot of muscles hidden deep within me, and all thought of pain and discomfort fled my mind. I was crying out his name and many other things in my ecstasy. Over and over again he struck deep into me until I thought I would die from the intensity amassing within me. I was burning and shivering and deliciously scared. I came violently, choking on any sound that I would have made. Each breath was ragged and difficult. My body was singing with post sex, yet I felt numb inside.

-

Hiei's POV

I came, releasing my seed into Kurama's body and collapsing upon his back. I didn't pull out immediately. I enjoyed the feeling of being in him and feeling my seed slick between his skin and mine, but I was exhausted. After rolling my hips against his a few more times for extra pleasure, I pulled away from him and fell to the side. I gave his salty skin a final kiss and a quick lap with my tongue, liking the way his salt tasted in my mouth, before descending heavily into a dark and complete unconsciousness.

-

Kurama's POV

From on my stomach I rolled onto my left side and watched my small master sleep. His mouth was slightly open and his arms were strewn about like the rest of him – in an untidy sprawl. It was almost cute to see this young looking demon in a deep and peaceful slumber with my dry blood caked upon his lips and chin and underneath his nails. He looked so much like an innocent, sleeping devil - a devil child that had happily gorged himself to sleep on his first bloody meal.

I didn't want to see him when he awoke, so I turned over onto my right side and pretended to sleep. Tired and sore beyond remembrance, I laid there unable to even close my eyes, focusing on my right arm extended out before me.

In my mind grew a morbid satisfaction. Each sting, each ache sewed another stitch in my ratted morality. However, one stitch hardly mattered when entire lines were unraveling faster than I could find their fraying threads.


	15. Breadcrumbs

Hcolleen

Tbiris

Darksaphire

DashAway

Bluespark

LoversPastForgotten

CrimsonFox

Kodaijin Hiei

Kuranga108

Mhmartini

DragonRose888

Inexpressible

Draechaeli

All Things Anime

Kumori-hime

Faery Goddyss

------------------------------

**Unbalanced Pendulum**

**Chapter 15:** **Breadcrumbs**

------------------------------

Hiei's POV

Sleep peeled away from my eyes layer by layer until my eyelids lifted and exposed me to the morning light. I blearily rose up onto my side and saw the carnage I had wreaked the night before. Black ash wafted through the air, twirling in tight circles before dispersing into the sky with a deceptive happiness. Great char marks scarred the trees' trunks and many trees were simply gone. I had burnt a long, narrow clearing in the dense and ancient forest. How old and how thickly immersed in magick from the ghouls occupation must these trees have been? I suddenly realized how evil I was, I had murdered timeless beings carelessly. And though it did not affect me, to someone who was intimately linked with the earth…. I turned slowly, apprehensively to see the naked figure lying beside me. His back was towards me and his eyes were closed, but I knew he was awake. He probably hadn't slept at all.

My eyes were wide and my mouth hung open at what I saw. From behind I could see the ten deep scratches along the length of his back and the dark bruising at his hips and shoulders. There was dried blood on his lower back. Bites that I never remember giving were half visible on his left arm, the one not trapped beneath his body. Then I saw the bite at his neck. My stomach flipped dangerously, I was shocked. I couldn't have done that to him, not me…. The entire area was inflamed. Blood had spilled down his shoulders and dried to rusty brown flakes over night. Within the wound itself was grizzled flesh, only a few lines of muscle were still continuous.

I turned away, unwilling to look anymore. I looked down, trying to remember everything I had done last night, surprised to see my hands shaking. Events returned to me, one by one. Silently I remembered, each memory increasing my terrible distress.

"…Kurama…?" I whispered. He refused to acknowledge me, probably hoping to still fake sleep. "Kurama…I…I'm - "

"Don't!" he said sharply. I was startled into silence. "Never feel pity towards your prisoner…" Kurama rolled over to look at me, "…Hiei." Then he stood, his usual grace faltering only slightly, and walked away towards the small lake I had relied upon merely days ago to keep him hydrated and healing.

I would have been angry with him, and perhaps I should have been, for what he said, but it was how he said it that kept me from lashing out. There was very little bitterness to his words, only defeat and weariness. He had been kind and patient with me despite everything I had made him endure, why? And I had not only treated him when he had been hurt, I had nurtured and cared for him for reasons I didn't understand. Yet, I then treated him beyond vicious.

Suddenly my previous justifications of dominance, control, and maintaining an unwritten order were insignificant, and an emotion I was not familiar with was beginning to surface, guilt. What I had done was entirely overkill. Sickened, I knew that I was always one for the dramatics and not fond of what I deemed weak, half-assed attempts not fit for powerful demons with dark reputations such as myself. Still I stubbornly stood by my reasons, knowing that they had been important when I had conjured them. I wasn't completely ready to admit my faults, but they were as obvious as the bruises on Kurama's pale skin.

Kurama was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and too unbalanced to know what to do with me anymore. I had thrown everything in his face in an entirely nonsensical order and knowing this was making me feel…guilty. How does one negate this emotion? It hurt me. What was I supposed to do?

----

Kurama's POV

'Has anyone ever spoken to you of Hansel and Gretel, Hiei?' In my mind's eye, I can see you in my arms right now. Your head rests back upon my shoulder and your shoulders rest against my chest. I stroke down your arms and whisper stories in your ear. I'm in the shadows of your mind and you heed my very thought. We are one in that place. There is no one and nothing floating in the dark but you and me. My legs are extended out and yours are curled in. One of your hands lazily grips my long hair, playing with it between your child's hands. I kiss your temple and you sigh.

'_Hansel was a young boy and Gretel was his sister.' My hands reach your fingers and I slip mine in between, gently untangling that one from my hair. I could engulf you entirely if I chose. You are that small. But your hands lack the fat tissue of children. Instead they are rough and strong, man's hands. I hold them in mine. _

'_Their evil stepmother decided they could not be kept and their father bowed under her ferocity.' Your hair tickles my nose and I repress the urge to sneeze. I hold my breath and nuzzle the fuzzy strands of silk nap. When I pull away, your scent clings to me and I can breathe you in freely. A scent I have smelled many times before, but will never tire of. It's musky, a little like burnt wood and sweat. An undercurrent is detected and I am reminded of a spice, always the same one…cinnamon. I don't think I would ever forget that scent. The way you can only smell it up close, or the way it soothes and at the same time excites. _

'_And so Hansel and Gretel were led deep into the forest and there abandoned by their guardians, left to die.' He squeezed my hands reflexively, though I don't know why. I have never asked about the tragedy I see looming, ever present in his eyes. I squeeze back. I hug him as best I can with my neck and chin, pressing down upon his trapezius muscle and in against his neck. Would he tremble if I did not continue my story?_

'_But they were clever children and had left a secret trail of breadcrumbs behind them.' He scoffs lightly, still hopeful but unable to not mock human foolishness. 'Yes, that wasn't very clever of them after all, was it Hiei?' I kiss his shoulder then trail a light tongue up his neck and behind his ear. I give his temple another quick adoring and protective peck. His heart beats against my chest. I cannot feel or hear my heart without feeling and hearing his. He leans to the side and looks up at me with dreading eyes. They are wide and add quite a bit to his youthful countenance._

'_Crows ate those breadcrumbs, Hiei. They ate every single one.'_

-

Water parted around my head in eerily smooth waves as I rose out of the water. Most of the blood had floated away as easily as droplets of water from wax paper. The rest I gently rubbed off. Last night was a lapse on both of our parts. We had been tired of following the rules, so to speak. We had both slipped and been whisked away from reason. I had no regrets. I never had regrets. Rather I adapted to new situations and took the longest remaining straw into my possession. Why had I let all of that happen? Because I had needed it, I had needed his brutality and every punishment he could deal me to restore my waning conscience and resolve. However, I was finding that I had gained many advantages from last night. He deemed me weak it would seem. I laughed silently at that thought. He felt responsible and sick with himself and I no longer felt as sorry for what I was about to do. I would pull at that guilt and lure it out from the depths of his fresh heart until I would get everything.

I had remembered the story of Hansel and Gretel, though I can't remember where it was I had first heard the ningen tale, while bathing. Breadcrumbs. The lifeline for those two unfortunate children was only secure because they believed it to be in their minds. In the outside world, however, what they believed didn't matter. Crows had only seen the bread for what it truly was, food, and ignorantly eaten every single crumb. Desperately, the children had then wandered into a house of sugar, but the witch had known what her house was from the start. The children only saw candy. The witch saw children.

Each level higher the story climbed, the more did one see inside the mind: from simplicity to innocence to treachery.

Young audiences are taught to think that the innocent children won (good conquers evil after all), but I see something different. For how innocent can a child be after being left for dead by their own guardians and then killing – no, they didn't just kill the witch, they cooked her alive. They copied her ways, learned what they saw, used what she had, and assimilated her treachery into their own hearts and memories only to later rejoin their twice betraying father, who had forsaken them and then their stepmother; they survived. Is it fair to question their methods? No, but it is a lie to call them innocents. Had they been innocent, they would have died in that sugar house.

So Hiei, who will I become for you? Will I be the ignorant crow, following a trail of breadcrumbs? Will I be the greedy stepmother with her ill-conceived plans, or the fickle father? Will I be the witch, whose scheming earns her only death in the end? …Or will I be the heroes of this tale, the children, and survive by any means necessary?

The tables were turning again.

I ran my fingers through my ridiculously long hair; forever vain enough to notice, even after centuries of wearing it, how terrifically fine it was. The tangles seemed to slip down and out of my hair with the most minor of nudges. It floated about my body and I thought that I must resemble a giant, white lily. My skin began to feel the cold and I knew it was time to leave the lake. Now what was I supposed to do about clothing? Hiei hadn't been too considerate last night, I thought with a tainted laugh. I looked at my disrobed form with annoyance. Unless Hiei was willing to find me new garments soon, I would have to make new ones for myself, something I really didn't want to have to be bothered with doing. I weighed my options rather lightly given my circumstances and decided that making my own clothing would as least occupy my mind.

Trying to sit down earned me a wince of pain. Grimacing in annoyance, I remained standing and called to the seed in my hair that I required. When I focused, I could feel its glow responding. I reached in and plucked it easily from my hair and tossed it to the ground. A simple corn kernel actually. What most people didn't know was that within the sessile flowers of the maize plant were many thin, small white threads called silk. While not actually being silk, they were adequate impersonators for the short term. It was straightforward to manipulate the plant's growth, forcing the buds to multiply and grow many times their normal size then open and reveal their bounty. The threads wove about in front of me like so many long and insubstantial tentacles. When I had grown a sufficient amount, I closed my eyes and envisioned the light sleeveless robe I wished for. At my level, I no longer needed to instruct each individual thread where to go and what to do. "Sewing" my own clothes would have been entirely too arduous had that been necessary. My energy wove into the threads, molding them and persuading them to merge with one another without my outright guidance. I dared not open my eyes, trusting my experience and instinct to do the work my mind could not. I sensed the robe's sudden completion ten minutes later. I plucked a kernel off of the newly grown corn ear and repeated the process to create myself a sash.

When done, I centralized my energy within the plant, returning it to a simple kernel and replaced it within the folds of my hair. Tiny vines, equal in mass to the hairs on a spider's legs, grew out form the exterior of the seed at my instruction and latched onto the my hair. I then slipped into the finished garments. They were completely white except for the places where stitches would have been on a normally constructed piece of clothing, which held a tint of yellow-green. The texture, however slight in appearance, was that of rough cotton. Incomparable to the cloth I usually chose, expensive light-weave silks – made in imitation of ancient Chinese silks – that would seem to float off of my skin at the slightest breeze. But this would do for now, especially since I was opting for a long robe with slits up the sides and a sash to hold it secure rather than a tunic and pants. This was simpler. I had managed to retrieve my shoes on my walk to the lake from where they had been flung last night. These I slipped my feet comfortably into.

I headed slowly back towards where I knew Hiei would be, readying myself to face him. I had last left him with a defeated comment. Now I was to see how well he believed me. My resolve was strengthened…right? I could feel that horrible, nagging sense of dread in the back of my mind. This affair was nowhere near as completed as I was desperately trying to convince myself it was. And I had nothing near the conviction I boldly told myself I did.

_Only breadcrumbs_, I said to myself, _nothing more than breadcrumbs. _But which was I: the child leaving them behind or the crow gobbling them up or both? Was I eating my own lies, filling myself with their substance, becoming what they dictated me to be?

Unbeknownst to me were the hungry, violet eyes watching both Hiei and I. Karasu…the crow…was growing impatient.

----------------------------

A/N: Did anyone make the connection between the crow in the story and Karasu before I mentioned it in the last line?


	16. Like a Sunrise to the Blind

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**Unbalanced Pendulum**

**Chapter 16:** **Like a Sunrise to the Blind**

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Hiei's POV

After the fox left me, I distractedly picked up my clothing and dressed myself. Then I staggered back to the hollow tree, retracing my last night's burning steps. Once there I discovered that I didn't want to be there. I didn't wander far, all but collapsing against a tree at the edge of the clearing. I hugged my knees loosely to my chest and hung my head forward in exhaustion. My right hand slid down to where my sword lay unsheathed (the sheath was still within that tree) and I ran my finger along the blade. The cold steel was comforting in its apathy. A master smith had created it with glorified purposes in mind, but the metal itself was without desire lying on the ground. Held in my hand, the uncaring metal became a weapon with a wicked thirst for blood, but that was nothing more than my projected feelings. It was a good sword to take on its wielder's heart like that. Still it was not a great sword. A great sword would always carry its possessor's heart within the microscopic folds pounded into its being. That was all right with me, though, I would find no comfort in a lustful blade.

I stopped stroking the smooth metal to examine my hand. The lines in my skin stood out strikingly since blood had dried in the tiny grooves. One of my claw-like nails had broken at the tip. I wondered what I had snagged that on, or when. I sincerely hoped it wasn't lodged within the fox's flesh, though I couldn't imagine how that could have happened. Guilt more prominently nagged at my heart. I didn't really understand guilt. To me it was more like an annoying pain in my chest than an emotion. Because of this uncertainty, I was more conscious of it than anything else. I fisted my hand against my chest in the irrational hope that pressure would make it go away. I remembered seeing people do that, putting pressure to their chests with anguished expressions upon their faces. A very few of the ice maidens had done that too while plotting my demise.

The pressure did help, but as soon as I would relinquish it the pain would return, more constricting than before. I felt it like hot steam in my gut, rising up into my chest, and then demanding that I expel it into the night. However, I physically could not do this. I stopped trying after four heavy exhales. The fox had been forgotten, oddly enough, in lieu of my confusion when I heard light footsteps approaching. He had intentionally allowed me to hear his approach. I knew he would be naked, but modesty was hardly my concern and I looked up with a defiant glare in mind. To my surprise he was clothed in a strangely plant-like robe. It was short, reaching barely past his mid thigh. In one thoughtless moment, I noticed that he had an amazingly contoured pair of legs.

He stood still, his gaze lilting over me like a petal that skirts the surface of a pond but never touches down. Cautious but also inquisitive, arms relaxed at his sides, and the lines of his face smooth. He looked incredibly young, like a dream. I could have stared forever. It was as if I had never seen him before.

"These garments won't last long," he said. "I would prefer real fabrics to these anyway." Did last night even happen? I dazedly nodded once in reply. "Your own clothing is in need of replacement as well." I again nodded once. He tilted his head, his ears twitching forward. The expression was purely fox and, had I been in better spirits would have looked comically adorable. His eyes softened and seemed to brighten the smallest degree. The fallen leaves, sticks, and stones compressed quietly beneath the thin soles of his slipper-like shoes as he approached and then knelt before me.

Birds in the canopy above us took flight in a loud flapping of wings. Hundreds of feathers momentarily broke our beam of sunlight. Shadows passed over us like moving pictures. They were of the first animals to return to this hellified forest. The slightest branches of the trees rustled for a moment then settled. Quiet returned.

The fox reached a hand out tentatively towards me. It paused for the briefest of seconds before brushing against my chin. Light enough to catch my attention, I suddenly remembered that, yes, I had cruelly attacked this spirit only half a day ago. For a moment, I felt my body consider shaking. Then he smiled a small smile at me, it was more in his eyes than in his mouth, and he spoke, "I'm not mad Hiei. There is nothing for me to forgive." I froze. My eyes locked on the still angry bite mark on his neck just now exposed by the shifting of his robe.

"Yes there is." I placed one of my small hands upon the wound faster than he could protest and applied the slightest pressure. Stoic though he was, he could not hide the small surprised wince of pain my touch had caused him.

"Hiei! What –"

"This morning, you told me not to apologize…and you were right. I will not apologize to you for what I did, nor should I." I paused for a significant amount of time. Neither of us moved. The fox looked nervous, the slightest widening of his eyes betrayed him. "Do you know the legend of the forbidden child?"

"Yes…"

"Not all of the rumors are true…I did know my father. And he had loved my mother." A gentle arm circled behind me and I gratefully leaned into the embrace. From the wound, my hand had slipped down to his chest, clinging without holding on. I felt him shift so that his back was against the tree and I against him, chest to chest. Only his one arm held me to him, giving me a wonderful sense of both containment and freedom. This was the first time I had willingly been close to another with no ulterior motive. The grainy texture of his mysterious clothing against my cheeks, his masculine scent thick, his willowy hand engulfing my shoulder, and his aura surrounding and enveloping me in its earthy nature were all things that I welcomed. I would not apologize to him, but I would give him something in its stead; I told him who I was. In the process I had somehow found myself in his arms, and it wasn't like any moment before. I wasn't ill, or cautious, or simply tolerant. In fact, I wasn't thinking of anything. I was truly feeling calm here, with him. "Kurama…."

He was mercifully silent and still, seeming to know. We lay there together.

-

Kurama's POV

Astonishing. I had been wrong about him. I had expected another dramatic switch in the mood of this temperamental demon. Yet his sense of duty had counteracted all of that and proved false many of my assumptions. When I returned to him, I had been prepared to be the submissive again and give way before his stubborn and immature anger. However, he had been the one to bend. I was impressed that he had and was still keeping his head – he was still entirely aware of our relative roles. I had shaken him free with my harsh words this morning. He knew the importance of them and, because I had been the one to remind him, he suspected me of nothing. He was bending, but was it for me or was it for his own self. Either way, would I have to break him to break free? I was losing more conviction with each revelation I was allowed to have about him.

Hiei was the forbidden child, the bastard son of the ice princesses. The rumor was that he had been thrown from the floating island hundreds of miles above the rest of Makai. At least my original suppositions were not far from the truth. When I looked at him, I could see the legitimacy of his words in his physical appearance. He was an ice princess in stature. I could feel the lean, almost wiry form beneath the cloak. He had an unbelievable amount of power that defied his small body. I could even feel the effeminate curve of his waist, proportionally slimmer than my own. But his coloring was wrong: the red eyes and black hair. His skin, also, was different. According to legend, the ice princesses were completely isolated by the static snowstorm that hung eternally above the floating island. They never baked under the sun, and Hiei's skin was tinted with the hint of tan from his rough outdoor existence.

I was beginning to understand what treasure had fallen into my lap with my capture. He was one of a kind, a sinister and paradoxical half-breed with no manners and a deep-seated mistrust of everything. The muscles and aura that defied logic were likely his birthright. And he had known nothing but the fight – not even caring for the kill – since the day that he had been thrown from the frigid land hovering over us all. Above all odds, he had survived and he still had a heart kept safe his entire life hidden under a well-practiced exterior. I wanted to hold him to me forever like I had wanted to hold my young and precious Kuronue.

Eyes half-closed, but not in sleep, Hiei leaned into me. He was nearly lying on his side now. Only his torso had been charmed my way to start, but slowly his knees had returned to their natural bent position and rested upon my thighs. Not once had he looked me in the eye since I first returned from the lake. He had tried to glare at me, forcing all of his angry indifference into his eyes. That at least, I had predicted and countered with a soft willingness to forgive and forget. The directness with which he scolded my passiveness was what I had not been prepared for.

We lay there, together, for a long while before he spoke again. I said nothing, only listened. I was afraid that he would stop if he remembered more consciously my presence.

"I had come to consciousness a few days before my birth, or something like to it. I remember being pressed tightly all around and then being very cold for the briefest of moments, birth. The face of an old and wrinkled witch was my first sight. She sneered at me with a look of complete loathing. Next, strips of cloth were binding me. I fought furiously at first, kicking and screaming as best as an infant could do, but it was to no avail. I didn't then know why I was losing strength or why all of my internal heat was dissipating. Now I understand that I was being bound in ice wards that negated my power.

"I could hear a woman screaming. The old wretch called me 'Angra,' but the woman was yelling something different. 'Hiei!' She was terrified and angry, but, unbeknownst to me, my sister still had yet to be born and so my mother was unable to come for me. That hated woman took me away, securely wrapped from head to toe in the wards. I was allowed a space to see and breath through. She kept calling me Angra, but even then I knew that would never be my name. I was Hiei, my mother's child.

"I was placed on the stone floor of a dark, windowless room. The door closed behind the hag's retreating back. I don't know how long I remained helpless in that despicable place. Vibrations in the floor told me whenever someone would pass by. More than once I heard sobbing and anguished shrieks. One of the lamenting voices I did not recognize. It was this strange woman who retrieved me. Tears were locked within her eyes. Her name sounded like Ri. She also called me Hiei, but only that once before the evil woman appeared behind her and commanded that she work faster. We left that place and I saw my first snowflake. They fell gently within the city. I liked to taste them when they fell within the reach of my tongue, but I was already cold from the wards and did not appreciate the frozen air.

"The farther they carried me, the colder and harsher the weather became. Even the wards were soaking through. I was shivering. Then I heard my mother's voice again. We had reached the very edges of the ice world. My mother was reaching out to me, but could not come any closer as two more strange women were restraining her. I remember that everyone appeared washed out and white by the snow except for my mother." He faltered in his tale.

I was afraid to push him into telling me more, but I felt terrible. From the ache in his words, I could tell that he was lost within the vivid memory of the mother he was never able to know. I gently hugged him with my one arm and he sighed.

"I remember wanting her, just knowing that she was precious to me without anyone having to tell me so. I couldn't reach her. I couldn't reach her….

"Rui walked past her and soon, my mother was blocked from my sight. That was the last time I ever saw her. I had no peripheral vision, bound as I was, and had no idea how close to the edge Rui and I were. She told me to live so that I could return and kill her one day. It turns out that she was a close friend of my mother's. Rui was begging me to survive. Then tucked a perfectly round stone into the wards with me. I gripped the string it was on as tightly as I could. It was the hiruseki stone my mother had shed for me during labor. Rui's grip changed. She was holding me out from herself. The snow fell harshly and the wind was stinging my baby's eyes. Then I slowly slipped from her hands and fell backwards into a nothingness I hadn't even known existed.

"It was so fast and yet it lasted so long. I just remember the white of the clouds and the snow turning to rain and the wind whistling in my ears. That was how I first viewed the rest of the Makai, falling towards it. I was so afraid and I have no idea how I survived."

Hiei sounded both small and detached, fading in and out of the present and the past. He was absentmindedly clenching and unclenching his hand around the folds in my robe. This was another pause where I wasn't sure whether he was going to continue or not. He seemed to shake himself free, but his voice held a bitter undertone when he said, "That should suffice in place of an apology. You are not to repeat what you heard. Or do, I don't really care. The information is yours now."

I didn't verify one way or another. He looked up at me with an odd expression on his face then pushed away from me. I wasn't hurt. Likely he wanted to be able to face me. I was right. He scooted to the nearest tree and leaned back against it, folding his arms and looking straight at me. We just looked in silence, examining each other without awkwardness.

"Tell me about Kuronue," he said unexpectedly.

"What?" I was honestly stunned.

"What about him could make you give up your freedom?"

"Oh." I chuckled a bit, sobering almost immediately. "He was about your age, I believe, young anyway." Hiei didn't deny it. "He was rash and sometimes overconfident – everyone is guilty of that evil at some point in their lives. Yet he was always faithful and I was mystified by his unerring trust in me. I never had any reasons to doubt his motives or loyalty." I smiled to myself at the memory. "We had our fun."

"You loved him." I couldn't decide whether he was bitter or disgusted or something else, vaguely familiar but unrecognizable.

I nodded. "Yes, very much so. He was never my equal but the two of us often pretended so. It was only he and I; I had given up on a maintaining a band years ago after…. I betrayed a very close subordinate. Maybe I should call him a friend. He was never one to follow orders and thus was a liability. I abandoned him and eventually found that I could not stand any member of that group's presence, so I stole away from everyone. It was in my consequent wanderings that I met Kuronue. He was a stubborn and proud young thing without any goal in life other than to accumulate wealth through trickery because he could. He was, admittedly, quite talented. That was why I allowed him to join me. Besides, you saw how attractive he was."

It was odd that I could talk so lightly about Kuronue with his murderer. My gaze had drifted during my musings. I looked back towards Hiei to see him studying me with the same expression on his face as before, unaffected. He saw me looking his way and locked eyes with me. I held steady and continued to speak.

"It was a given that we would become physical. I just hadn't expected to become so attached. There was no sudden revelation for either of us. For Kuronue, it was slight hero worship and for me it was…I felt the need to care for him in response to his blind allegiance. We were as brothers, truthfully, an innocent love that learned to be passionate.

"The word love bothers me, though. The word holds little power or meaning for me in itself. Yes, we loved each other dearly, but it was so much more than that. Love is too general of a word. Broken down, it symbolizes utter devotion. Everything else that stems from it is just extra. Devotion is something that people can understand without abstract terms or ideals and, while there are different facets of devotion, it is all the same in the end. That is why I gave my word when Kuronue's life was threatened. And that was why he sacrificed his life when my freedom was at stake. That was stupid of him, though I wonder….

"How much do you understand of spirits?" I addressed him directly.

"Whatever is common knowledge. Why?"

I shook my head in a combination of amusement and disbelief. "Spirits may have gods that must be attended to, but by nature we are not comfortable being confined in any way. The loss of any ounce of freedom by a spirit, unless freely forsaken, is akin to a slow death. You don't like being in the rain. Now imagine living in a world where rain poured from the sky every moment of every day and night."

It wasn't my intention to pierce him with my staring gaze, but my eyes were unforgiving. I wanted to make sure he understood, nothing more. Not quite a shiver wracked his frame. I accepted that.

"Tell me, why are things as they are? Your motives are obviously not personal, so why have you done this to me?" I didn't plead but spoke matter-of-factly. He understood.

"I am a bounty hunter. A little over half a year ago, I was hired by a man to deliver you to him unharmed."

"I see…. Thank you for telling me. Is that where we are headed, to meet with this demon?"

"Yes."

"Oh." My shoulders slumped subtly forward. "I will miss you when that day comes."

He snorted, "Hn. No you won't."

I made as if to protest, but stopped short. I was feeling the beginnings of despair. This demon before me was calm, not the bipolar one whom I had been dealing with and manipulating for the past month. My nerve and determination were failing me. I could picture Hiei telling me that it would be all right, that that dooming day would never come. And then he would kiss me gently to reassure me. I would smile. Lately I had been losing myself in imaginings. Depression was quite comfortably nestling down into the creases of my mind. _I'm sorry_, I thought. It was to both Kuronue and Hiei.

-

Hiei's POV

Defeat was written all over his body. I didn't know what to do, having mixed feelings about Kurama's current state. On one hand he was finally realizing the control I had over his fate. On the other, I didn't want to ever see him look that way. It didn't suit him.

This was an odd moment for us both. I felt the weariness permeating from us and it was this exhaustion that had whittled down our walls, leaving us as we were now: open, uncaring, and strangely calm. Pressure _had_ lifted from my chest when I'd told him about my origins. I had then asked about Kuronue simply because I was curious and had felt no inhibitions. I now regretted that decision. Everything he had said accumulated and again there was swirling, burning smoke bottled up inside my chest.

We sat in a long silence. Finally I stood and walked towards him, stopping when we were side by side. I gripped his shoulder firmly then wordlessly brushed my fingers against his cheek. He was uncharacteristically slouched and so I did have to stoop a little. Weakly, he nuzzled my hand.

"Come, we can afford to sleep away today." Staying awake would be unproductive anyway. Remaining where we had already found a shelter within the ancient hollow tree was logical. I was also conceding ground to him, allowing him another day of assured distance between himself and Karasu. I'm not entirely sure what spurred me on to say those exact words, but they were a minor comfort to the kitsune, suddenly so young, and I felt better for it.

Kurama nodded and rose to follow me into the wooden cavern. He lay down, pressed tightly against the wall, and curled about himself. I reclaimed the sheath that been hastily discarded last night and slipped my katana securely inside then sat with my back against the wall opposite him, leaning the sword against my shoulder. His milky white lids covered the gold of his eyes but he was not asleep. As tired as I knew he must be, his consciousness was fitfully riding the fine line between sleep and waking. I moved to sit beside him, his body between mine and the wall. Then I stroked his hair to sooth him, marveling at its light and very unnatural quality, the smoothest material I had ever touched. When he had fallen asleep, the movement behind his eyelids ceasing and the small gasps caused by an unknown discomfort fading into steady breaths, I unhesitatingly touched his lips with my own in a chaste and soothing kiss.

Moving only slightly, I sat near to his head and watched him until I too fell into a light slumber.

-

End of Chapter 16

A/N: Anyone know where I found the name Angra?


	17. I Hate You

Thank you to all of my reviewers! I'm sorry I've been away for so long. I actually lost track of for a long time, but more so I've just been busy with absolutely everything, lol.

I know I usually respond to reviewers or at least list all of the people I'm thanking, but it has simply been too long since I last updated and I was unable to keep track. Gomen! Please forgive me!

WARNING: Bits of silliness that may seem a little out of place in this story. Profanity, boy on boy loveliness

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Unbalanced Pendulum

Chapter 17: I Hate You

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Hiei's POV

Days and days we walked, and my guilt still stubbornly clung to me. Every time my eyes would gaze upon Kurama's figure, my chest would clench. With each moon we approached closer to Karasu and his evils. His claws in my skin, his tongue on my body, his treacherous words, and his invasion of my self – it all became Kurama in my memory. I would watch it in my mind over and over again – his rape of my fox – as clearly as if it had actually occurred, and I had stood by watching. And it would occur. I was delivering this precious creature into the jaws of not death but horrors, torture, and slavery. It was worse than doing nothing. It was mindless betrayal. My excuse was to pretend to follow another code that overrides this emotional morality.

I was watching a feather of the gods float down into my grasp. For a short moment I did let it lightly land upon my upturned palm, marveling at its unique beauty and holiness. I held it, caressed it, and began to love it. Then I let it go. With nothing more than a rotation of my hand it falls to be sullied by the ground at my feet. Could I do that? I asked myself, could I? Of course, I thought in disgust, I was already doing it.

My heart was breaking. That which I had thought solid, merciless, unforgiving, and unreachable was cracking under the weight of my sorrow. His smiles were becoming brighter, and his nature more playful, but the sadness in his eyes was only growing. We had left our final stop behind three days ago. Now the only village left in our path was the final one. I, whose thoughts had never even glanced upon love-stained tears, was thinking of them every moment I took breath. How had this happened? I had been so oblivious as to not even notice when my big heart had finally opened its doors and let in the only thing I could not afford to ever love. Was I destined to be the one who lost everything? It shamed me and angered my pride to think of myself as weak as the characters of ancient and fabled romances. I hated it. I hated me. But I could not deny that a larger and larger part of my twisted consciousness was beginning to revel in the idea of letting go…and allowing him to sweep me away.

I had thought myself a rival to the Youko, that I of all people should be able to take him down. Well, I thought miserably, I was right. I just hadn't anticipated that I would go down with him. Maybe I could do it, abandon who I was in order to protect this beautiful man. Maybe I could slip away, and we could forget all about Karasu. Maybe…until our blood fed the earth and flowers grew from our murdered corpses.

---

Kurama's POV (4 days ago)

My thoughts were no longer of my own volition. They would flitter here and then land somewhere else entirely than the ground that they had fluttered above. I stared at nothing, following helplessly but not quite hopelessly behind my small, dark warrior. His head turned back to contemplate me and I stopped to meet his eyes. We held still for seconds.

" No more than a few days journey, didn't I say?" Hiei said with the hint of a smirk. "I know a vain beauty such as yourself must be eager for proper clothing."

I was startled by the casual teasing in his tone and cautious as to how to respond. If I was too cold and suspicious he might take offense and his easy mood would then be lost. However, if I responded too familiarly he might scowl and think me out of turn. Had this person truly killed my lover and savagely raped me? I chose to play along.

"Yes, this herbal attire is rather…ill-fitting and rural compared to my usual exotic tastes." I picked at the garment in mock contemplation. "And this robe is much too short for decency. What _was_ I thinking? What I wouldn't give for proper spirit weave clothing." I was testing the waters with my humor.

"Yes well, you will soon be…_properly_ clothed. I should hope that it is within the talents of the infamous thief Youko Kurama to steal from a trading market, seeing as I will not spend any sum of money on your fancies."

_Even though it was your fault_. The thought graced my lips but my mouth wisely chose not to open for those ill words. Instead I swallowed myself, securing it back within the shadows of my mind and played this game. Whether it was intended to or not, it pained me to pretend we were friends. I felt so strongly towards him – be it love or hate that I hated ignoring that true and honest passion given to all but only fully manifested in us creatures not naturally of the flesh. I hated the lie. I hated myself. I hated him for making me hate myself. And I hated myself for hating him.

I gave an informal bow, inclining my head and the upper half of my torso while spreading my right arm wide. "Is there anything else you so desire that I may retrieve it for you?"

Hiei just rolled his eyes and scoffed at my show. "Just get your damn clothes, and do it quick. Leave food and lodging to me." His eyes suddenly became hard and bored straight through me. "When you're done, meet me at an inn named 'The Holy Arthur.' I suggest you not take long. Understand?"

I lowered my eyes in shame. "Yes," I whispered. "I will do as you say and come directly to you."

"Who said I would be there?"

I quickly looked up in horror. Was this the place I was to be…? Pressure built in my throat and behind my eyes. My breathing came in gasps, nearly choking me. Tears inexplicably pooled in my eyelids, and I blinked rapidly to keep them from overflowing. I felt my legs go weak while the rest of my body locked and I was near to collapsing. It was the suddenness that was dragging this panic from me. I had not expected…was he only allowing me to preen so that I looked presentable to the buyer? Was that it, would he be paid a higher price for my pristine condition?

"Kurama!"

I refocused. Mere seconds had passed. Hiei was at my side, pulling my hair to get my attention. I was yanked awkwardly down to his level. "That's _not_ what I meant. I know the owners of The Holy Arthur so they will know to which room to direct you. I have business to take care of and may not be there until later. Do not think so little of me to suppose that I would do that to you." Ending in a growl, he let go and stepped back.

I stood up, a little shaken but touched by his kindness. "My apologies. I meant no offense."

"That's not the point!" He stormed away from me, towards the city.

"Hiei?" I asked tentatively.

"Shut up! Just get your things and meet me at The Holy Arthur." Then he was gone.

---

Hiei's POV (4 days ago)

The first order of business was to visit The Holy Arthur personally and inform the innkeeper of my arrival. The place was as I remembered it. From the outside it appeared dingy, and unkempt – the sort of place penniless beggars mingle in, spending their only coins on ale too diluted to be worth drinking. The doorframe was splintering and the door no better. The walls on either side indicated that the tavern was no larger than a rundown and forgotten thatch hut. But once you stepped inside it was revealed that the next seven storefronts on either side – in equal disrepair – were nothing but fakes. The place spanned the length of an entire block and was just as deep as it was wide. There was no second story, but there were 3 negative floors, which were used to house any manner of earthly (and unearthly) desires.

The interior was tastefully decorated with welcoming creams and deep, brooding reds. Tables arranged in mathematically balanced sequences around the large stage that was to be filled with beautiful demons, humans, and beasts alike once night fell filled the left half of the room. During mid-afternoon, however, the place was oddly quiet. Even the bar and restaurant on the right was deserted but for a young couple who would've been out of place during the later hours and an old gentleman with too many ears smoking a hallucinogenic pipe. The blue-skinned bar tender was absentmindedly polishing last night's dishes.

Along the far wall was the receptionists' desk. Five chairs were spaced perfectly along a black marble table whose public side was cut so that no item would roll forward off of the desk. Before each chair was set a closed, steel tablet. A stylus was on the left and a complex calling pad on the right. It was clear that the calling pads were the more often used. In one of the chairs sat a young woman with very large and round pink eyes, a low cut blouse, and a sixth digit on each wrist resembling a canine's dew claw.

"Hello sir, may I help you?" It was a question she could ask a mud-eater in her sleep.

"Tell Mr. Bolyx that Hiei is disappointed in his hospitality," I leaned in closer allowing the poor receptionist to see a glint of fang. "Now."

"Yes sir, right away sir." She fumbled only once with her calling pad. I was impressed at her fortitude. Maybe that old buffoon had finally hired someone competent.

The girl quickly punched in whatever code would convey my message and request for urgency. The small, rectangular screen at the top of the calling pad flickered a series of yellow lights in response. This conversation continued for a minute or so until the pink-eyed girl looked up and informed me that, "Mr. Bolyx will be down shortly. Please have a complimentary drink at the bar while you wait."

I strode coolly over to one of the restaurant's tables and sat down with my legs propped up on the table but refrained from ordering anything. I didn't have to wait long. Mr. Bolyx came rushing down the long corridor behind the receptionists' desk, hurriedly pulling on his human-based "smoking jacket" as he came. He was an eight-foot tall, thin man who resembled a humanoid preying mantis with olive brown skin. His jacket and matching trousers were either a light brown or dark cream color (Mr. Bolyx could never remember which was the appropriate term). I raised an eyebrow in question of his appearance. In his hurry, Mr. Bolyx had forgotten to put on a shirt underneath the jacket.

"So sorry, so sorry. If I had known you were coming, I would have prepared a proper welcome for you master Hiei. I wish you had only sent word even an hour beforehand. Oh dear, oh dear. I do hope that you will forgive me." My. Bolyx bowed with every couple syllables so that he looked like a child bobbing for apples.

"Stop that! Is my room ready?"

"Yes, yes. I keep it exactly as you instruct. No one is allowed to stay there but you –"

"Good. Listen very carefully, I will not tolerate failure," I lowered my voice, making sure I had the sniveling man's attention. It felt good being back in my world where I knew exactly how I was supposed to act and how everyone around me was supposed to react.

"Yes sir. I will not fail you, no sir!" Mr. Bolyx stood suddenly at attention awaiting my next words.

"A certain silver Youko will be staying with me tonight. He will likely arrive here before I return. My room _will_ be prepared and ready for him by the time he arrives and you _will_ treat him with all the same respect and reverence that you do me. His every wish will be met without the slightest hesitation, is that clear?" I paused. Mr. Bolyx glanced quickly down at me then looked back up again and nodded. I continued, "I expect he will want a bath and something to eat so prepare both. He has a preference and appreciation for exotic plants so lavish every area he may go with them." I dropped my feet back to the ground and shifted my weight forward. "If any of my demands are not met to both his and my fullest satisfaction…well, you know what will happen."

"Yes sir, yes sir. I assure you that I will personally see to everything. It will all be perfect, yes perfectly perfect. I promise."

"I will see you later tonight then. Good bye." I rose and left with my usual speed, leaving Mr. Bolyx standing alone with his own "good bye" still hanging, unuttered, off of his lips. A moment of stillness passed before he seemed to snap into action, clapping his hands and summoning all of his currently working staff.

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Kurama's POV (4 days ago)

It was not a remarkable city, though it honestly might have been painted in gold and jewel studded with diamonds instead of glass in every windowpane. I wouldn't have noticed anything until the market square anyway. I was absorbed in my thoughts, Hiei's last words still ringing in my ears.

'_That's not the point!' _

'_Shut up! Just get your things and meet me at The Holy Arthur.'_

I giggled to myself for Hiei wanted me to think well of him! If I had been nothing more to him than another job, he would not have cared. He would have preferred my fear and irrationality, proving his successful intimidation of me. I was giddy with the pleasant feeling of restored hope. What should I care of the city around me? There was nothing I could steal for myself, nor any possible means for escape. I, and everything on me, was Hiei's. And he was slowly becoming mine.

A squat demon rudely bumped me in his hurry, jolting me out of my reverie. I caught myself moments before reaching out and crushing that thing's neck in my hand. It wouldn't do for me to cause a scene, I tsked at myself. As it was I stood out enough with my height and my beauty, I didn't need a commotion announcing my presence to the entire world.

The street was surprisingly clean for something so trafficked. It seemed that the market was a rather respectable one with banners representing each merchant clan or traveling tradesman. Each booth butted right up against the one next to it, most shared sidewalls in a continuous row of items for sale. The smells of fried birds and various other roasted meats drew a growl from my stomach. Hiei and I had not eaten badly, but food caught on the fly was hardly comparable to city treats. My fingers itched to steal one or two of the whole stuffed birds neatly skewered on long sticks so that they could be eaten without sitting or the proper utensils. However, my word bound my actions to honesty for at least the time being. I quietly snarled in distaste. According to Hiei I was to only get what I was after and nothing more. I continued to prowl along the edge of the wide and busy lane. The frustration seeping out of my body kept all curious vermin a safe distance away.

Twenty-seven stalls later I found what I had been searching for, a popular clothing booth full to bursting with browsers. It was open to the street, but possessed all three other walls and a ceiling. The floor remained the same cobble as everywhere else. Lighting was poor as the sun was setting behind the back wall, and it seemed that the owner was preoccupied trying to accommodate a rich-looking man standing near the back corner. I paused to contemplate this seemingly out of place person. He was certainly attractive with a tall, slim figure and a naturally pale complexion offset by hair so black it bordered on purple in the setting light. I was both drawn to him and utterly repulsed. His neck twitched and I ducked behind a rack of fur coats before he could look my way. A shudder wracked my body as I imagined his eyes upon me. I looked around quickly, no longer in the mood, making sure to remain hidden from that man's eyes. At the first sign of white cloth, I bolted, testing the fabric hurriedly between my fingers before slipping away and back into the crowd. It wasn't perfect, not nearly as diaphanous as I would have preferred, but it would do.

With the clothing bundled in my arms, I fled from that place as quickly as tact would allow. It wasn't until nearly two-dozen shops later that I bothered to ask where The Holy Arthur was. I unhappily discovered that I had taken off in the wrong direction, but rather than take the main road again, I chose to wind my way through the back streets mindful of Hiei's words to hurry.

I remember little except the street markers, which indicated where I must turn. My overall impression was one of a rich neighborhood gradually fading into ruin and disrepair. My spirits were significantly lower as I reached the nearly collapsing door of The Holy Arthur. It was with more than a little trepidation that I gazed from side to side then let myself it.

Truthfully, I was more than a little shocked at the contrast between the exterior camouflage and the actuality of the interior. However, having lived a life of finding crowns and priceless jewels the size of my fist beneath 12 feet of mud and feces, I think my reaction was less than satisfactory to the tall man across the room (whom I assumed to be the owner). He approached me quickly, shuffling and tripping over himself in his eagerness to bow every two or four steps (always in evens I noticed).

"Hello, hello sir! I'm Mr. Bolyx. May I assume you have a reservation?" I was too stunned by having to look _up_ at him to respond right away. He was emitting a soft, uneven buzzing noise that, I noticed when I looked down, was coming from his ankles as he rocked anxiously back and forth in anticipation of my answer.

"I was told to give Hiei's name upon my arrival," I said.

"Good, good! I am so glad, so very glad to hear that! You see, you see, I had assumed from your appearance that you were the guest Hiei told me about! I just wanted to make sure. Right this way then; right this way!"

I was all but steered past the long front desk and down the hallway directly opposite the door. He reverently never laid a hand on me, but his stressful urgency compelled me to follow his lead as if he had been forcefully pushing me.

The hallway was painted a delicious-looking cream color with a deep red (bordering on mahogany) trim running along the crease between each wall and the ceiling and along every doorway. Every thirty feet was a European-style wooden door. Each was left its natural wood color, enhanced by polish, and was carved in simple block patterns that I personally found boorish and hard on the eyes. The farther down the hallway I was led, the more intricate the carvings became. First there were only four large block outlines per door, then there were five, then six, and so on. It appeared, I realized, to be a sort of labeling system.

Five minutes later, Mr. Bolyx (who had all the while been squawking pleasantries in my sore ears) stopped before a deeply dark brown door with a heavy grain and knots littering its surface. I approved.

"I assume this shall lead me to my room?" I asked, more fascinated by the door than the answer.

"Oh yes, oh yes. He was very specific when he had this room built for him. Yes, yes indeed. I see you are a connoisseur of trees? Perhaps?"

I nodded.

"Well, well. Then you probably noticed the beauty of the dark Alder and the unique – oh very unique – quality. It was difficult, very difficult to find this wood growing native in the Makai. You probably know this, but…oh! Pardon me sir, I am terribly, terribly sorry. It is uncommon for me to find another person with an interest in these things."

My fondness for amusing drabbles had not been satisfied with Hiei as my only partner. With my back to him, I rolled my eyes at his enthusiasm, but indicated for him to continue. Nothing he said was truly of any interest. He was droning on about the rarities of Makai adapted Ningenkai plants; how grueling it was to plant magic seals in their grain, how the tight grain running vertically and the oddly numerous number of knots in the wood made it tough and nearly impossible to break without immense brute force, etc. I knew woods and plants better than he could have ever understood. I could have told his own story back to him and he probably would have learned a thing or two. In lieu of that I hardly paid his words any mind and, instead, studied him.

I saw him as a bumbling idiot, too awestruck to properly run his business. But his aura, when I reached out to perceive its hidden force, was entirely different: strong, capable, and ready. Its movement was fast and its substance wiry. Hm…perhaps this was an interesting individual after all.

As he was talking, he had managed to usher me along through the impressive doorway, down another narrower and darker-colored hallway, down a gilded flight of stairs on the left with black velvet-draped walls, and through another door. This one was completely plain and solid black, but it crackled with repellent energy. Had I attempted to pass through this door without proper permission, I would have lost my hand.

I vaguely recognized that Mr. Bolyx's story had changed. Now it was the origin of his inn's name. It was an ancient European myth about a mystical king named Arthur and his subordinates. That was when I finally placed his accent – I nearly laughed aloud when the thought came to me, he was trying to imitate a human English accent. It was poor and over elaborated instantly making it unrecognizable. It was doubtful he had ever been to the Ningenkai. More likely he had befriended an Englishman who had stumbled through the barrier then collected material originating from that general continent. How had Hiei ever come to know a man like this?

He finally stopped his forceful direction of my body when we were fully inside the suite.

"Oh yes, oh yes. Beautiful isn't it? I did as Hiei requested – please, please tell him that. It is exactly as it has always been, yes exactly. If you need help, please press that small button there – see, see? Now I will leave you. Please do not, do not hesitate to come down to the restaurant later or request my presence for any reason. I enjoyed talking with you. It is rare, so rare to find someone interested in the same subjects as I am. Thank you; thank you. Good-bye."

It was with a grateful and relieved sigh that I heard the door shut closed behind me with him on the other side. The room was not overly decorated but certainly not austere. The few pieces were lush beyond the dreams of someone wandering the wilderness and sleeping on stone beds. The room I stood in was obviously for receiving guests. A large, intricate drapery covered the far wall and black iron statues of entangled dragons wove around the topmost of every wall in a continuous design of fearsome beauty. As I wandered curiously through the corridors of this hidden mansion I found that the doors on my right led to the dining, kitchen, and public wash facilities. On the left, one wide and traditional sliding Japanese doorway revealed another long and narrow hallway running parallel to the door. The wood had been stained but otherwise untouched so that I felt as if I were inside a sealed box. It was an unpleasant sensation, but I pressed on sure that that was the purpose of the hallway's construction and appearance. My natural inclination, being right handed, was to turn left and explore the rooms down there. Therefore, I assumed that Hiei's room must be to the right.

I was not disappointed. The master bedroom was a beautiful piece of Hiei's twisted sense of artistry. The room itself was painted the palest blue I had ever seen. Glass – clear and frosted – was everywhere, and the furniture was gleaming white. The floor was plush with carpet, making it seem as if snow littered the ground. And if I looked not so carefully at the walls, I might have thought it was snowing. At the center of the room was the evil and cruel contrast. The bed was flawlessly black: the bed frame, the pillows, and the comforter were all the same engulfing shade of complete darkness. It the midst of all this light, the dark was magnetic and I could not resist approaching it. When I was close enough to touch I saw, hidden by the blackness, satin sheets the dark hue of betrayal – angry, bloody red.

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Hiei's POV (4 days ago)

My spies had confirmed my fears. _He _was getting impatient and was on the move. Karasu had last been seen in the agreed upon rendezvous city nearly a week ago.

"_I've lost track of him master," crackled a male green faerie hovering above the branch across from my nose. These were the sorts of grotesque faeries that hid under mushrooms and tied pitiful persons' shoelaces together. Their dust was dirt and no cheer could be got from their smiles. _

"_What!" I paced back in forward in anxious frustration. _

"_He left my territory nigh half a fortnight ago…" attempted the ugly green faerie._

"_And what of you Magit?" _

_An equally ugly and gaunter orange figure puffed out his trembling chest and said, "I followed him, Hiei-sama, through my territory as well…until he disappeared." _

"_What is that supposed to mean?" Where the Hell was this bastard?_

"_I-I lost him. My sincerest apologies daijo." The orange faerie prostrated himself in the air, peaking up in masochistic curiosity at my reaction._

"_Was this the last either of you has seen or heard of his presence?" I was deep in my own thoughts at the gravity of this revelation._

_The green one nodded decisively. Magit tried, but his position made it difficult. "The gods be damned! I want you to search for him until you have either perished or Karasu has been found!"_

That dark man was in each step I took, each breath I drew. The control had slipped from my actions, and so here I was unwilling to give up my prey to another. A comfort that perhaps this was no more than that, one hunter coveting his well-earned prize – a mere monetary debate of worth and price. I shook my head violently, shaking the thought from my head to attack some other fool in the fading light of this rundown town.

Right. Right. Two lefts, and I found myself once again through the door of The Holy Arthur. I nodded once towards the large-eyed receptionist (now joined by four others) so that she would alert the staff to my presence here then continued through two hallways, down the staircase, and through the black door into my private quarters. The door had been opened recently, it lacked its usual spark that it developed as a side effect when not used for long periods of time. Kurama had done as he was told. I meandered through my many rooms and corridors searching for the Youko, I was in no hurry. Eventually I found him curled up in one of the three guest rooms. I chuckled, he looked for all the world like an adorable young pup coveting a bauble that he wished to lord over his brothers and sisters. The room he had chosen was the grandest of the three with rich green brocade walls, rosewood furniture, a river otter rug spanning from wall to wall, and a four foot wide canopy bed with white silk sheets and a green down comforter. A great chandelier of 1,000 enchanted candles hung from the ceiling. These three rooms I had not decorated (I lacked the taste) but rather left that up to the judgment of Mr. Bolyx.

As I entered the room, Kurama's eyes fluttered open and he slowly lifted his head up to greet me.

"That usually works better if you sleep under the blankets," I remarked.

"I didn't know whether or not I was allowed to –" he was cut off by a shuddering yawn that ended in an incredibly canine high-pitched whine. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen him do.

"Sleep…under the covers. I'll wake you up in a couple hours for something to eat. You may leave this place at any time, but can't reenter without either me or Bolyx." While talking I had made my way closer to back of the room where he lay. Now I leaned in and gently pressed the back of my fingers against his cheek, "You're safe here." My actions came unbidden, and I was for once not surprised. His bleary golden eyes blinked slowly, warily up at me. No doubt he was confused. "Now sleep," I said.

I stepped away and went to leave the room to idle my time away and discuss business with Bolyx.

A calm was descending upon my mind and a fire was kindling in my heart, flowing through my blood and exciting my limbs with spark. Damn that pretty face of his. It had ruined all I sought to create and destroyed what little I had to offer this rotting world. I refused to let these be my last days with that body, mind, skill and brilliance. Fuck everything that was me and let it be his if that was what kept his sigh in my ears. Gods how I hated him.

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Kurama's POV (4 days ago)

"Now sleep," he said.

I lay there frozen, still feeling his hand on my cheek and missing its steadiness and the warmth I had not even known I lacked. This green paradise was so different from his twisted world that he had created not one hundred yards away. I could not stand the torture he inflicted upon himself just by refusing to give in to a single moment of peace and normalcy. I wanted him back, here with me, and not in that world of forbidden children and traumatic memories. I could not speak my words out loud to him, they simply would not come, and each step he took away from me pressed heavier the weight of my unspoken words upon my heart and tongue. The pain of being afraid to express myself brought tears to my eyes and I just wanted to curl into a tiny ball and melt in the overwhelming flow of lava through my system. I had fallen in love before, why was this time so much more difficult? because this man was forbidden still. A dare, a challenge….

"Stay," I breathed out.

Hiei stopped and turned to look at me, "What?"

"Stay with me, please, even if just for a while," I was so breathless but gaining strength out of desperation not confidence.

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Hiei's POV (4 days ago)

All of me had wanted to hear those words, had secretly begged for this before _I_ had ever known what I wanted. I was suspicious though, and he felt it.

"I want to know you're here," he said.

There was a soft pleading in his eyes, and I couldn't resist. I slipped off my boots and draped my cloak across the overstuffed armchair on my right. Then I deliberately made my way back to his bedside. My smooth motions would have been sexy in a different situation. Kurama was still lying on top of the comforter and sheets so I tenderly pulled them down from underneath his body and slipped in beside him, laying the covers back over the two us. The pillows were propped so that I could comfortably remain mostly in a slouched back sitting position, while he hesitantly curled his head and shoulders into my lap. It was awkward at first, the shifting and moving until we were both comfortable, but as soon as our bodies found that position where we fit together like a lock and key all tension fled as if chased away by the rightness of our union.

I'd never felt that before, just laying with another and being soothed by their mere nearness. The softness I felt in my eyes at the sight of peace settling in Kurama's perfect features made me determined to experience this feeling again. Kurama was the only doorway that I had ever known into this entirely new phase of life. It was then I knew that I would defend _this_ with my life. And whatever _this_ was, it could only be realized with Kurama.

"You've destroyed me," I whispered. He looked up and I found his eyes, "I _hate_ you." I poured all the sadness, bitterness, despair and newly discovered painful affection I possessed into those three words. He understood and smiled.

"I hate you too, Hiei. You murdered my love and enslaved my spirit. I have always hated you."

Hours later I still lay there awake, thinking, my fox now held fast in my arms.

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end chapter 17


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